Good Bye Grandma, It's been fun.
The first memory of my grandmother that I have is from when she came to visit one yeaar. I was living in the brown house on Windemere by Haverhill Elementary. Grandma drove all the way up from Florida. I remember sitting at the kitchen table making perler bead magnets. She didn't join in, she just watched. I don't remember what we talked about, or what silly creature I made, but I remember her being there.
I also remember when she first moved to Michigan. She didn't have a place to live right away so she stayed in our guest bedroom at the house on Sunburst. She would sit and listen to books on tape, and fall asleep before the end of the first chapter.
She lived in an apartment for a while, but I don't really remember that, I think I went there like once. I remember when she bought the house on Schuring. My cousins and aunts and uncles all came over and we helped grandma move all of her fabric and furniture into the house.
I have a lot of memories in this house, Grandma's house. When I was sick and stayed home from school my mom would drop me off there on her way to work. Grandma and I would watch tv together, and I had my own box of crayons and coloring books at the house. In the summer when I was little, I would sometimes spend the night at Grandma's. She taught me how to knit, and we made cards and stationary with rubber stamps. She taught me how to piece together animals for her quilts. Grandma and I were alike in a lot of ways. Crafty, stubborn, picky, but most of all caring.
After I graduated, I really wanted to move out of my parents house. My mom wasn't working at the time, so my parents said that moving into the dorms wouldn't be a possibility. If I was going to go to Western, I would be living at home. Then, I decided that since I didn't really have a plan for school anyways, I could save them a ton of money by going to KVCC for gen-eds and such. Then maybe with the money they saved by not going to western, they would let me have an apartment. Well, that plan failed. They were fixing up the basement for Lauren so that she could still have her own place when she moved back home. All I could think about was the fact that she had already gotten out for four years. Lauren went to Western, stayed in the dorms, lived in an apartment, and they're fixing the basement for her? Here I was going to Valley, which my Meaps practically payed for. I couldn't help but feeling jealous, and I hated it. I couldn't stay in that house because it just made me more and more mad every day, and I didn't like feeling that way because I shouldn't have felt that way.
That's when Annie (cat...) fell onto my friend's balcony. I fell in love, and mom and dad said I couldn't keep her.... but Lauren was bringing her TWO cats with her. That's when I gave up. The only thing I could think of was Grandma. Grandma needed company, and the at and I needed a home. I felt like my parents didn't really care as much about me as they did Lauren. I talked to Grandma. Even though Grandma has never liked cats, she agreed right away. All I had to do was ask mom and dad. I went home and said "Mom, dad, I talked to Grandma today. She said that Annie and I can move into her basement." Their only response was. "Okay." They didn't tell me they'd rather me stay home, nope. They didn't say they would miss me. They didn't really help me move much either. So, I moved in with Grandma feeling like she was the only one who actually wanted me.
Living with Grandma was interesting. She worked at Ford for a living, in Detroit, so she knew a lot about cars. One day we watched "Pimp My Ride" together. She liked watching, but didn't always know what the people on the tv were saying. And she certainly didn't understand why they would be doing such outlandish things to perfectly nice cars that just needed new parts and a paint job. "Isn't a pimp a man who rents out women, Michelle?" she would ask me. And "what the dicken's does bling bling mean, they keep saying it and I don't know why!"
It only took me a week of living there to notice that Grandma wasn't really taking care of herself. She hardly ever ate, and when she did it was ice cream, candy, a piece of chicken, or frozen vegetables. She was diabetic, and she hadn't tested her blood in so long, that when I found the tester she couldn't remember how to use it. I told my mom that Grandma couldn't take care of herself, and as much as I could do, I just knew it wouldn't be enough. I suggested that we try and talk to her about moving somewhere with people who could make meals for her, and friends for her to talk to. My mom didn't really want to think about that so nothing happened. Three months later Grandma had a stroke.
It's been a year since Grandma and I lived together, but for that year I've lived in her house. I have to admit that I didn't visit her in the hospitals or nursing homes as much as I should have. It was really hard seeing her that way. I felt like every time I saw her in that state, when she didn't even know who I was anymore... it would replace a happy memory I had of us together.
Last week Grandma passed away. It was her time, and I know she's much happier where she is now. We'll be selling the house soon, and then I'll only have my memories. I sure will miss this house, but not as much as I'll miss her.
I also remember when she first moved to Michigan. She didn't have a place to live right away so she stayed in our guest bedroom at the house on Sunburst. She would sit and listen to books on tape, and fall asleep before the end of the first chapter.
She lived in an apartment for a while, but I don't really remember that, I think I went there like once. I remember when she bought the house on Schuring. My cousins and aunts and uncles all came over and we helped grandma move all of her fabric and furniture into the house.
I have a lot of memories in this house, Grandma's house. When I was sick and stayed home from school my mom would drop me off there on her way to work. Grandma and I would watch tv together, and I had my own box of crayons and coloring books at the house. In the summer when I was little, I would sometimes spend the night at Grandma's. She taught me how to knit, and we made cards and stationary with rubber stamps. She taught me how to piece together animals for her quilts. Grandma and I were alike in a lot of ways. Crafty, stubborn, picky, but most of all caring.
After I graduated, I really wanted to move out of my parents house. My mom wasn't working at the time, so my parents said that moving into the dorms wouldn't be a possibility. If I was going to go to Western, I would be living at home. Then, I decided that since I didn't really have a plan for school anyways, I could save them a ton of money by going to KVCC for gen-eds and such. Then maybe with the money they saved by not going to western, they would let me have an apartment. Well, that plan failed. They were fixing up the basement for Lauren so that she could still have her own place when she moved back home. All I could think about was the fact that she had already gotten out for four years. Lauren went to Western, stayed in the dorms, lived in an apartment, and they're fixing the basement for her? Here I was going to Valley, which my Meaps practically payed for. I couldn't help but feeling jealous, and I hated it. I couldn't stay in that house because it just made me more and more mad every day, and I didn't like feeling that way because I shouldn't have felt that way.
That's when Annie (cat...) fell onto my friend's balcony. I fell in love, and mom and dad said I couldn't keep her.... but Lauren was bringing her TWO cats with her. That's when I gave up. The only thing I could think of was Grandma. Grandma needed company, and the at and I needed a home. I felt like my parents didn't really care as much about me as they did Lauren. I talked to Grandma. Even though Grandma has never liked cats, she agreed right away. All I had to do was ask mom and dad. I went home and said "Mom, dad, I talked to Grandma today. She said that Annie and I can move into her basement." Their only response was. "Okay." They didn't tell me they'd rather me stay home, nope. They didn't say they would miss me. They didn't really help me move much either. So, I moved in with Grandma feeling like she was the only one who actually wanted me.
Living with Grandma was interesting. She worked at Ford for a living, in Detroit, so she knew a lot about cars. One day we watched "Pimp My Ride" together. She liked watching, but didn't always know what the people on the tv were saying. And she certainly didn't understand why they would be doing such outlandish things to perfectly nice cars that just needed new parts and a paint job. "Isn't a pimp a man who rents out women, Michelle?" she would ask me. And "what the dicken's does bling bling mean, they keep saying it and I don't know why!"
It only took me a week of living there to notice that Grandma wasn't really taking care of herself. She hardly ever ate, and when she did it was ice cream, candy, a piece of chicken, or frozen vegetables. She was diabetic, and she hadn't tested her blood in so long, that when I found the tester she couldn't remember how to use it. I told my mom that Grandma couldn't take care of herself, and as much as I could do, I just knew it wouldn't be enough. I suggested that we try and talk to her about moving somewhere with people who could make meals for her, and friends for her to talk to. My mom didn't really want to think about that so nothing happened. Three months later Grandma had a stroke.
It's been a year since Grandma and I lived together, but for that year I've lived in her house. I have to admit that I didn't visit her in the hospitals or nursing homes as much as I should have. It was really hard seeing her that way. I felt like every time I saw her in that state, when she didn't even know who I was anymore... it would replace a happy memory I had of us together.
Last week Grandma passed away. It was her time, and I know she's much happier where she is now. We'll be selling the house soon, and then I'll only have my memories. I sure will miss this house, but not as much as I'll miss her.