{self portrait tuesday} a first, a last
One of the first pictures of us together. I think about what she must have been thinking, "I am holding my daughter's daughter." I wonder if she realized that she was going to be my first friend. She taught me to give and not worry about what I received in return. Together we would laugh and laugh and laugh. She let down her defenses with me; she let me in. In this picture, she is so young. She always looked like this to me. I used to rub Pond's cold cream on that face; take off her make-up then put it back on for her. How she must have looked after I made up that face. She was patient and fun and silly and honest.
The last picture. The last time I saw her alive. Before we moved to the pacific northwest, I knew we had to visit them. A last drive from Indiana to South Carolina; we stayed for a couple of days. In the middle of the night before the morning we were to leave, I woke up with a wicked flu, so we stayed for two extra days and were there on my birthday. What a blessing. Two more days I wouldn't have had. She took care of me and we talked. She showed me a family genealogy book no one knew she had. We looked through old pictures. On the morning we left I insisted, as I always do, that we take pictures. And even though I was still sick, not wearing make-up, and feeling pretty crappy, she made me laugh and laugh as my husband took our picture. Then I hugged her good-bye; we were both crying. I started to get in the car, then walked back over and hugged her again. I got back into the car, and Jon began to back out of their driveway. If I close my eyes, I can see her standing there waving, crying.
I ache because it was only a few days prior to her death that I really understood the role she had played in my life. Through a conversation with another, I realized she had been the first person to let me be whoever I wanted to be. And I wanted to tell her that I finally got it. To let her know that through this acceptance I had become the person I am now and that she was my dearest friend. And I was going to be able to tell her in person because I was flying for a visit that Wednesday. My visit had been planed for weeks, but she had been hospitalized over the weekend. She was doing better they said, no need to rush your visit. You will get here as she is feeling stronger.
Tuesday morning, 2:45 a.m. the phone rang. My aunt. The hospital had called her, and things had taken a turn; she and my uncle were on their way. "Will you hold the phone up to her ear when you get there? Even if she is in a coma, will you do that for me?" I asked "Of course," she said tears in her voice. She understood. I just had to tell my grandmother what I had realized, but more importantly, I just wanted to tell her thank you.
We didn't know that she had already died.
I know that people say she already knew. But I wanted to tell her. And I wanted one more last picture. One more last day.
(link to more SPT personal history posts here)
self-portrait
Reader Comments (21)
Oh Liz, I'm crying now...What a gorgeous, heart warming tribute to your grandmother. She sounds like a really phenomenal woman, and I know she must live on through you. This is such a courageous and wonderful gift to her, to me, to all of us. Thank you so, so, so much.
what a wonderful, wonderful tribute. thank you for sharing it.
I'm crying too. What you wrote about your grandma is incredible. mmm--I wish I could say more, but I don't have the words. All I can do is feel it--both the loss and the love.
This is a beautiful tribute to your best friend and I know she can see you Liz and hear your heart and she really does know, even if you didn't get 1 more physical day.
xoxo
Crying here too. How touching and still painful to understand the finality by holding up the first and the last photos.
I don't know what to write, and it is hard to write through the tears. I just lost my grandma - who was a friend and cheerleader to me just like yours - so I appreciate the beauty of your relationship and the difficulty of the loss. Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you all for your kind comments. As I wrote in an email to Frankie today...I feel like maybe if I put these words out there, the energy from the words, the people who read them will begin to vibrate with enough intesity that she will feel them and know.
Thank you.
she knows.
she knows.
she knows.
you have to trust and beleive
in that.
you have left me sort of speechless
and without words.
This was such a sweet and moving post. I always feel a bit guilty when I read about women missing their grandmothers (there have been quite a few bloggers writing about this lately) Both of mine are still alive. I do talk to them on the phone, but they kind of drive me crazy. Both of them are very, very negative and it is difficult and draining to have a conversation with them. But I know it is important to make the effort and Know all I can about them because one day they will be gone. Thanks for a little push in the right direction...
i have tears down my face, but no words adequate. just believe, she knew then. she knows now.
That is powerful and I say we are so very lucky to have people in our lives that formed who we are. Beautiful, wonderful, touching story.
My deepest sympathy to you. And I am sure that she knew how much she meant to you. You are very blessed to have had such a wonderful grandmother and friend. Take good care.
Oh Liz...What a wonderful...sad...happy...story! I know your Grandmother is watching over you...it is a beautiful tribute...to a beautiful woman!
Liz, this is such a beautiful and important part of your life. The gift of letting you "be" - giving you permission to be exactly who you were/are is the most significant gift an adult can give a child, I think. Love is implicit in the gift. From it the child learns acceptance, risk-taking, exploration. Unconditional love is the springboard and the safe place to fall. This is the gift your grandmother gave you which you give to your precious child/ren. She lives on in YOU. And, she does know. She was your intimate friend - of course, she knew.
:) Hugssss, Sky
Thank you ... this is beautiful.
I can't even read this one Liz. I'm late for work..and just had to scan..it..and I'm still teary!
I'll go back later and read it all.
my eyes are filled with tears. thank you for sharing your story. my heart is overflowing.
oh Liz---- I have no words.
~bluepoppy
what a beautiful tribute... don't know what to say... thanks for sharing it.
now this is what the meaning of love really is!!! thank you so much for sharing!
such beautiful people! i'm so moved over how lucky and much love you feel for your grandmother (and she for you)! thanks for sharing your story :)