Saturday, January 22, 2011
Life is hard some times. Really, Really crappy hard. So hard that the only thing your brain and your body knows how to do is cry, and you cry so deeply for so long that the tears dry up. Then, you think, "okay. I'm going to be okay." And then you hear a song on the radio, or see your mom, or your sweet little baby boy who turns four years old tomorrow and you start to cry all over again.
Today, my grandma died and my heart is broken. It happened suddenly and unexpectedly. Telling her goodbye in the hospital today was terrifying and so peaceful at the same time. You see, my grandma always told me that the two of us shared a soul. Sometimes, she could read my mind. She'd stop me before the sentence even came out of my mouth and say, "Annie, don't you dare..." Always, she loved me no matter what hair brained idea I'd come up with. And today, when I squeezed her hand as hard as I could praying that she would squeeze it back, a sense of calm came over me. She was protecting me and telling me that it would be okay. That she was okay. That I would be okay.
I grew up with my grandma. She was my mom, my advocate, my teacher, my chauffeur, my Slurpee accomplice, my private swimming pool provider and one of my best friends. I ate countless bags of chips in her TV room sneaking MTV when she wasn't looking and confided in her things that I probably didn't even tell my mom.
As a little girl I looked forward to Sunday night visits to grandma's house. I would strategically place myself on the floor in front of her chair in desperate hopes that she would start to comb her fingers through my hair. Oh how lucky I felt.
She rescued me the day someone threw gum in my hair when I was a sophomore in high school and gave me a big hug before she chopped off all my bangs to get the gum out. She taught me the importance of putting others before myself, taking care of your family, and that sometimes, it's okay to curse at the moon if you need to.
She taught me to love Disneyland and adventure, the value of a good book and an the joy of an ice cold diet coke any time of day. She taught me to work hard, roll up my sleeves and dig in to get what I want. She showed me how to stand up for my beliefs, to be brave and bold, and that when an official makes a bad call in a game to scream my guts out.
She taught me to be proud of who I am. To be strong. Today I'm not being strong. But guess what, telling your 4 year old after his awesome fun birthday party that Great Grandma died is so hard. That sweet boy listened to me, said Okay, and later asked his dad when Grandma would get to come back from heaven....
If only it were that easy. As if it were really like a trip to Disneyland.
I love you! Sorry I'm being such a boob.