Three weeks…


Three Weeks

That is when I am making the trip to Miami to see my grandmother. It is now that I am nervous as to what I will find when I arrive. This is the only grandmother I have left. I know her as this strong independent woman. I know what I will find when I see her is someone different. She wasn’t feeling well before the stroke. She wasn’t eating much, and her legs were giving her trouble.

I am afraid that who will be there to greet us will be someone who is fraction of the person I once knew. According to the family, she still has the fire she’s always had, but I guess I am worried about her appearance. She’s always that grandmother you know not to anger. Her strength of spirit is a wonderment to be witness and a marvel to experience. Never afraid to speak her mind, she will let you know exactly what she thinks, no minced words, no bushes beaten.

She’s gotten into the habit of sending care packages to me and mom now. I shudder to think of the day the boxes stop. That will mean no follow-up call to see if I received it, because she will be with God in his kingdom. I know she will be in good hands, and she won’t be in pain, but selfishly, I will wish she was still here.

We all tell ourselves that little lie, “She’s up there in years. I won’t be surprised when she finally leaves this earth.” Then it happens, and it still leaves us reeling. You are never prepared for the loss, or possible loss, of a loved one. Kidding yourself into thinking that you’ll be ready is just you lying to yourself.

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