I Wrote this post about 2 weeks ago. I think I wrote it to help myself organize my feelings only, and wasnt really intending on posting it. I only came back to it today when I was looking at some home decor pages in style at home mag, and came across something that was reminded me of my own home where I grew up.
Home. So many wonderful, enriching memories. Eating breakfast with my grandmother at the table, while she sipped her morning tea and drank her glass of o.j. Waiting for my Bestest friend in the whole world to call and ask me if I wanted to come over to play. ( She lived pretty much in the backyard). Coming home from an afternoon at Katie's and walking through the door to the aroma's of my grandmother's cooking. Watching a late night movie together when bed time was suppose to be at 10. The 1 and only time I ever beat my grandmother at cribbage, now THAT was a victory worth celebrating!
I had moved out of my grandparents house when I was 22 to move to Calgary, to begin a new chapter in life as so many young people do.
The last time I was home was 4 years ago. When my Meme was diagnosed with ALS, I didnt understand the visciousness (sp) of the disease to its entirety. I eventually stopped calling her when it was too painful to hear how strained her speech became. My mother would keep me updated with vague details about her health and what she could still do.
My emotions were in turmoil. I had wanted to go home and visit many times. But with a new baby I told myself that it would be too much to handle for me, and would be too overwhelming for Meme which would just make her condition worse. It was better if I didnt go.
I ended up making the decision to go home in march when my mom informed me that they had to take Meme to the hospital due to breathing difficulties. Her diaphgram muscles were weakening. I had to see her. To tell her I loved her and that I was sorry for not being there.
My mom told me "carla, she's not doing very well dear" I pushed my dates to the soonest flight I could find which was on a Tuesday Feb 15. It was Sunday February 13. I was to leave at 7 in the morning and arrive at 6:45 pm local time. I was a nervous wreck. I cried alot. I would sit in the bathroom and cry after the baby was in bed. I cried while I washed dishes. I cried when I would remember something funny that my grandmother and I had done. I cried when I thought of her disease and what it had done to her and our family.
Monday morning, valentines day, My grandmother passed away. I cried. I cried really hard, the out loud sobbing kind of cry for about 10 minutes while Brea sat on the floor staring at me.
It took two days for me to get home, due to some weather complications.
I'm glad I cried alot before I got home. I didnt really feel the need to cry afterward.
I'll never forget the night my Pepe suffered his heart attack. It was their anniversary, and My Pepe & Meme and I had just finished dinner at the local chinese buffet restaurant. I was 14. At the hospital I cried as I was frightened by the thought of losing my Pepe and leaving my Meme and I on our own. I remember resting my head on her shoulder as she enveloped me in her arms, I asked her "why aren't you crying?" and she said "crying wont do me any good" and cry she didnt. I didnt see my Meme cry, even when we left the hospital after he was in stable condition. My meme and I slept in her bed that night, she asked me to, as much as I knew she wanted to cry, she never did. I often think about this when the tears start to come. I think about the courageous strong woman she was, and the battle that she fought for 2 years to the disease that took away her independence.
I was in survival mode after the plane trip that I plunged into the role of busy body. I stayed with my pepe for 2 weeks after the funeral. We cooked and cleaned ( okay I TRIED to cook) and played with the baby. Watched T.V. ate oysters, and had lengthy conversations about what it was like caring for Meme, and when Pepe was younger and was an air force officer. He told me about their lives and all their travels. The funny things their children (my aunts and uncle) would do. I had heard a few stories here and there growing up, but my Pepe revealed a little more as to what life was like back then. we went through our ancestry and where we originated from. he showed me pages of our generations, and a picture of my great-great grandfather with my great grandfather: Pacifique and Benjamin senior. (pronounced pa.si.vic) I LOVE the name Pacifique, and am thinking if we ever have a little boy Benjamin Pacifique will be at the top of the name list.
It. Felt. Empty. In the house without Meme inside, cooking up one her meals. Or sitting on the couch with her latest quilt. I found some of her notebooks and pages of the conversations she would write with people who came by to visit. I was angry that I didnt have my own conversation with her to keep. I would read them at night before I fell asleep. God I miss her. I rifled through photo albums, and with each picture of her, my eyes would blur as I remembered the day it was taken and what we were doing and which aunty was visiting at the time. I opened the closet door in my old room and all her clothes were hung in there. I opened my arms, grabbed them and brought them to my face and inhaled deeply. I was desperately hoping to catch a whiff of the familiar smells that clung to her. Spaghetti sauce was always my favorite! I didnt. It had obviously been too long since Meme had been able to cook anything. All I could smell was staleness. Not only was it empty in the house, It was empty in body. My senses ached to be able to see, smell, and hear her. I was sad that she didnt get the chance to meet my daughter Brea Rose.. I was sad that Brea didnt get a chance to meet her..
I ended up making a small quilt for Brea using Meme's scraps of old clothes and fabric. I used the lace trim on her pillowcases that were worn out, as the border around the quilt. At least she will always have a little piece of Meme with her. And I will be able to tell her all about her great grandmother when she gets older. My Aunty let me keep My Meme's charm bracelet as it was something I always remembered playing with as a little girl.
Before I left, my Pepe called me into her bedroom and told me to pick something out of her jewellery to keep as a momento. I chose a little silver cross necklace. I know she never wore it as silver bothered her skin. But as I was searching through her jewellery I realized that Meme is not her posessions. I would never be able to forget her whether I had something of hers or not. It made me feel a little better that I didnt have to fear the thought of forgetting Meme.
We have all lost or will lose someone significant in our lives. I know its important to keep moving forward. Some days are better than others. I never saw my grandmother while she was sick. I didnt know the woman, who's body was taken over by an illness that showed no mercy. I wasnt there to hold her hand and tell her I loved her. I can only be thankful for the loving family my grandmother had raised. I'm thankful for Brea as she is the ultimate distraction. I'm thankful for the memories that are stored away in the files of my mind. I'm thankful for having known this beautiful lady, who was the definition of elegance.
* We have since listed our house back on the market in hopes of selling, and now without any minor home fix ups to do I'm trying to throw myself into cooking and baking, since I took home with me a dozen old recipes of my favorite things my grandmother use to make...... Thank god I don't bake for a living lol!
