(no subject)
January 20, 2005
Only a week after my birthday and I was feeling kind of low. I'd lost an entire group of friends due to a stupid decision and now I was feeling more alone than ever. I had no one to turn to and began lashing out at the only people left in my life. My grandmother was living with us at the time. She always seemed to end up the brunt of my pain. Sometimes even the slightest comment from her would leave me angry at her for days. On Jan. 19th such an occasion arose. I don't even remember the context of our disagreement, I just remember going to bed angry. I woke up the next morning and chose to skip past her bedroom and go straight work, a mistake I will regret the rest of my life. While having breakfast with my Dad later that morning, my grandmother breathed her last breath. My Dad called the office to tell me the news and I immediately rushed to the hospital to be there. He said I wouldn't want to see her but I had to, we'd fought our last moments together. He said I would be traumatized from the way she looks but I just couldn't bear to not see her face one more time, no matter how it looked. The nurse took me down the long hallway into a small room where she drew back a curtain. There was a long, metal table with my grandmother's tiny frame under a shroud of sheets. The nurse asked me one more time did I want to see her and I nodded in agreement. She pulled back the sheet for me to see the face of a woman I no longer recognized. In my mind she'll always be the fun-loving, out-spoken grandmother of my childhood, not the shriveled old woman I saw that day. I let out a rather loud scream at the sight of this woman's face, the nurse covered her up, put her arms around me, which I promptly shrugged off and I walked back to the waiting room. The next few days were a blur. I kept waiting to hear her voice calling to me from the kitchen or her bedroom. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I swear I hear her calling my name. My Dad agrees that sometimes he hears it too.
So I will carry with me the memories of my grandmother's life. She drove an ammunition truck in Oklahoma during World War II. She was a waitress at James Coney Island in Houston where she met my grandfather. She had 2 daughters from a previous marriage and then my Dad with her 2nd husband. She and my grandfather moved to Hondo, Texas (40 miles west of San Antonio) in 1976 to be closer to my grandfather's family. I was born in 1977 and began spending as much time as possible with these two people who've influenced my life in so many ways. When my parents divorced in 1980, I lived with my Mom in Kansas and was allowed to visit my Dad every summer. For two weeks each summer, he drove me to Hondo and I spent my time with my grandparents. I remember the sound of a rooster that chose to do his "cock-a-doodle-do" anytime he felt like it as oppossed to first thing in the morning. My grandmother would take me to the local Dairy Queen, shopping at Wal-Mart and to the town's library, where I read every book I could get my hands on. We also spent a lot of time volunteer at the Four Seasons Nursing Home. This made me feel more connected to her than any other person in the world. And is the reason why every summer when the 2 weeks were over, I would cry the first hour we left them. I can still smell my grandfather's pipe, my grandmother's cooking and feel the material on the couch that was considered "Kimberly's couch." That couch, the most beautiful, comfortable couch in the world, is about to be the centerpiece of my new home. Reupholstered several years ago, it is a reminder that she is still with me, no matter where I go. Her rocking chair, also an important piece in my new abode, will be sat in as often as possible as a tribute to the memories of all the times she rocked in that same chair.
Almost all of the boxes are packed, only 3 more days I can begin moving these items into my new home. I've needed to get away from this house for years, the memories here are both happy and sad. But lately more sad than happy. It is time to move on from the bad times and start making some new memories.
Only a week after my birthday and I was feeling kind of low. I'd lost an entire group of friends due to a stupid decision and now I was feeling more alone than ever. I had no one to turn to and began lashing out at the only people left in my life. My grandmother was living with us at the time. She always seemed to end up the brunt of my pain. Sometimes even the slightest comment from her would leave me angry at her for days. On Jan. 19th such an occasion arose. I don't even remember the context of our disagreement, I just remember going to bed angry. I woke up the next morning and chose to skip past her bedroom and go straight work, a mistake I will regret the rest of my life. While having breakfast with my Dad later that morning, my grandmother breathed her last breath. My Dad called the office to tell me the news and I immediately rushed to the hospital to be there. He said I wouldn't want to see her but I had to, we'd fought our last moments together. He said I would be traumatized from the way she looks but I just couldn't bear to not see her face one more time, no matter how it looked. The nurse took me down the long hallway into a small room where she drew back a curtain. There was a long, metal table with my grandmother's tiny frame under a shroud of sheets. The nurse asked me one more time did I want to see her and I nodded in agreement. She pulled back the sheet for me to see the face of a woman I no longer recognized. In my mind she'll always be the fun-loving, out-spoken grandmother of my childhood, not the shriveled old woman I saw that day. I let out a rather loud scream at the sight of this woman's face, the nurse covered her up, put her arms around me, which I promptly shrugged off and I walked back to the waiting room. The next few days were a blur. I kept waiting to hear her voice calling to me from the kitchen or her bedroom. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I swear I hear her calling my name. My Dad agrees that sometimes he hears it too.
So I will carry with me the memories of my grandmother's life. She drove an ammunition truck in Oklahoma during World War II. She was a waitress at James Coney Island in Houston where she met my grandfather. She had 2 daughters from a previous marriage and then my Dad with her 2nd husband. She and my grandfather moved to Hondo, Texas (40 miles west of San Antonio) in 1976 to be closer to my grandfather's family. I was born in 1977 and began spending as much time as possible with these two people who've influenced my life in so many ways. When my parents divorced in 1980, I lived with my Mom in Kansas and was allowed to visit my Dad every summer. For two weeks each summer, he drove me to Hondo and I spent my time with my grandparents. I remember the sound of a rooster that chose to do his "cock-a-doodle-do" anytime he felt like it as oppossed to first thing in the morning. My grandmother would take me to the local Dairy Queen, shopping at Wal-Mart and to the town's library, where I read every book I could get my hands on. We also spent a lot of time volunteer at the Four Seasons Nursing Home. This made me feel more connected to her than any other person in the world. And is the reason why every summer when the 2 weeks were over, I would cry the first hour we left them. I can still smell my grandfather's pipe, my grandmother's cooking and feel the material on the couch that was considered "Kimberly's couch." That couch, the most beautiful, comfortable couch in the world, is about to be the centerpiece of my new home. Reupholstered several years ago, it is a reminder that she is still with me, no matter where I go. Her rocking chair, also an important piece in my new abode, will be sat in as often as possible as a tribute to the memories of all the times she rocked in that same chair.
Almost all of the boxes are packed, only 3 more days I can begin moving these items into my new home. I've needed to get away from this house for years, the memories here are both happy and sad. But lately more sad than happy. It is time to move on from the bad times and start making some new memories.