Hiahwahnah loves John.

Grandpa.

My grandma says on the way home from the doctor's office, she pounded his chest, uncontrollably sobbing and yelling at him.  Grandpa later told my Great Uncle Robbie that he felt a great sense of pride when she reacted that way.  She had been telling him for a long time to go to the doctor, to get check-ups, to take care of himself.  Being a typical male, my grandpa put it off.  Now he had cancer that had spread all over and she didn't want to see him to go.  She was mad and hurt.  

During my weekly visits to the nursing home, she tells me how much she misses him every single day.  That she thinks of him often and wishes she could talk to him, wishes she could see him.  That she doesn't know how she found such a great man to love her, to be patient with her completely impatient personality, and wonders out loud what she did to deserve him.  

She asked me to imagine being next to someone for 51 years and one day they're just gone.  Tears pushed against the walls of my eyelids but I took deep breaths to push them back for fear I would upset her.  I know she's lonely.  We often daydream together-  I will win the lottery and build a big house with a nice, big room and wheelchair accessible bathroom.  She'll have private home healthcare and we'll catch up every day and eat Hershey's Kisses and drink root beer.  On special occasions, or just because, we would listen to music and she would do her cute shoulder dance, the one she's done for years.  

I always worried that in the years to come, I wouldn't quite remember her stories by heart or I would forget the details that make them special but then I realized when I can't sleep at night, I close my eyes and think of arriving at her house when I was a child.  I've done it for years without realizing it was a habit I guess.  

Grams.

The trip to her house in Durant in the back of a station wagon, mom listening to music on the way, pulling up onto the broken concrete driveway, our pretend "grenades" dropped from the big magnolia tree limbs hanging above, Grandma would be waiting on the front porch for us to arrive, the sound of the front door opening, the faint sweet smell of tobacco, walking through the dining room, past the nutcracker on top of the built-in bench with hidden storage and past the china cabinet, to the breakfast nook in the kitchen where Grandpa read the paper.  Eating potato chips out of a wooden salad bowl before bedtime was a ritual for me.  Small winding wooden staircase to the attic which led to dusty old games like chinese checkers and Don't Spill the Beans. Grams' and Grandpa's hats hanging in the hallway before you pass the pantry door and the buffet with the stained glass lamp and photos on top. I spent a lot of time sewing and making crafts in the back room.  Playing dress up with my cousins.  Got my first perm in that kitchen by my Aunt Merrilee.  Made candles out of crayons and holiday sugar cookies with my Mom.  Shaved my legs for the first time sitting on the edge of the green claw foot tub.  Piano and neat treasures in the study.  Always looked forward to people watching while on the porch swing with my brothers and cousins.  Swinging as high as we could and frequently getting in trouble for hitting the back of the swing on the house.  I remember feeling so safe and comfortable sleeping on a little fold out sleeper with crisp, fresh sheets and that big, fluffy floral and white comforter in the front bedroom, the walls covered in pink floral fabric.  It would be so quiet at night, we would whisper and giggle to each other until we fell asleep to the distant sound of the train.  It's funny how I remember wondering where the train was going and where it had come from and I still think the same thing when I hear a far away whistle of a train from my house.

Please don't forget what treasures your grandparents are.  Remember that they've lived through a lot, seen a lot, accomplished many things, had good times and bad times.  There's a lot of interesting things to learn about older people if you just ask.  Sometimes they get lonely because no one really talks to them about anything besides medical problems.  Just the other day, my Grandma told me a story about having a couple too many highballs at Grandpa's cousin's house and being sick all the way home.  Giggles...   

And I love that my son loves his Nana.  When I take him to visit, he likes to wheel her to the dining hall and then he doesn't want to leave.  Very, very sweet.

♥  jp