By the end of the year my Dear Grandmother Laura passed. She was old in years and it was expected a women of her age and well lets just say an amazing life to have to die at some point. But you never really grasp it at the time. She was our matriarch. The one who held the family together. The strong Norwegian tall, with size 13 mens shoes. When you came into her home you were family. You were always given a hot meal, a sweet treat and a warm bed if needed. My whole life I looked up to this women. This strong women. So truth be told, watching her failing health the last few years of her life was hard. When we would visit and she would say that she was ready to go home to her heavenly father. To see may Grandfather, my father who had passed on before her I could understand. It must be hard going from a strong independent women to a frail, helpless women depending on others.
She had what the Drs thought to be a stroke. But with no test we will never know? I don’t believe them. She laid there in her bed for a week no water, no food. I brought my son the first day and she was non responsive. he was so upset. crying, telling me that he wished one more time to hear her tell the story how she was Grand Marshall in the parade and they road together in the convertible. It was their story! I told him to tell her the story. He did. As he told her the story she opened her eyes, as he got to the part where she taught him how to wave she lifted her arm and started to wave at him… We all jumped up and started screaming. Oh Tommy Boy! (that is what my Grandmother always referred to my son as. It took Tommy Boy to get Grandma to wake up!! That day and part of the next she was with us. She couldn’t speak, she communicated with her eyes and she moved her hands a little. I took my son home and came back with my daughter and we ended up staying the entire week. taking care of her almost up until the end. Swabbing her mouth, rubbing her head, hands, telling her we loved her, making she she was comfortable. Making the plans for after…
I started writing a poem and erased it all.. my mind is so full of so many thoughts right now that I cant think clear. Im angry, sad, frustrated. All at once.. When your children are small and your in control you look into their little faces with so much hope and love and think about the future. Scared of what can be. As they get older it gets scarier, you lose control, they become more independent and want to branch off and do their own things. The more you try to hold on the more they try to push you away..
Im pretty sure my son is at the point of his life where he wants to be an adult but doesn’t understand that he is a kid. He wants to be respected but doesn’t understand that its earned not given to you. I wish I had all of the answers, I wish I was the mother my mom was growing up. Raising five children on her own she did such a fantastic job. Not one of us would have ever disrespected my mother the way my son disrespected me. Where did I go wrong? Do I buy him to many things? Do I do to much for him? I had him at a young age so I kinda grew up with him but I am the adult, he is the child and dang it I should be respected!
I hate to say it but I don’t want to look in his face. I don’t want to be around him. If I could take my daughter and leave for a few days to cool down I would. I know that sounds horrible. Im the adult, I am supposed to forgive and move on but some things that were said I don’t know if I can ever get pass… Some things he did I don’t know if I can ever forgive.