She had to have surgery last Friday on her intestines. They had been giving her trouble and it turned out she had a bunch of old food getting caught on old scar tissue. They took out 2 feet of her intestine. The surgery went well. She had no cancer or anything. But she didn’t wake up and didn’t recover. Today her children were called to the hospital and made the decision to turn off the ventilator and let her go.
I don’t think I’ve let it sink in yet. I never thought she’d die before Grandpa. His Alzheimer’s has gotten worse so he doesn’t even know that his sweetheart is gone. They were always so in love, always holding hands and twinkling eyes at each other.
She was always so special to me. I had to answer a survey a couple of years ago about who was my hero. Other people picked famous people, but I picked my Grandma. She lived through so much. She lived through the war in Holland with bomb casings falling on her roof. She moved to Canada with her new husband to start a new life. She didn’t know any English. Within the next 13 years she had 11 children!
She was always so funny because I’m sure she must have learned English from her children and maybe the TV. She knew all the slang words and I can hear her in my head right now saying “Holy Cow!”. She’d always talk back to the TV and the soaps or the politicians.
I’d love spending time at their house. After we moved over an hour away, we’d still visit lots and I’d get to spend time there in the summer. She knew I loved her macaroni and beef and cheese so she’d make it often. She always had food treats – licorice and pop and fruit punch and cheesies. She’d always try to be fashionable too. She knew the latest cool things and I remember when she’d bundle a long shirt to the side to put a big plastic button there to tie it up. She’d have so many clothes, some she’d never even worn yet. She gave me many neat shirts.
She’d always try to find our names on things. All the Grandkids would get personalized combs and pencils and barrettes and pens and toothbrushes. She’d still always remember my birthday and make sure I got a card and a little something. After all, I was her number one grandkid!
She made the cutest card for me after Winger died. It was hand made and cut out individual letters and dog pictures saying she was sorry to hear about my dog. I have it saved in my memory box.
I’d like to think of Grandma in some special part of heaven. She’s out by the pond feeding her ducks and swans. It’s summer and the sun in shining. Maybe there are even two Golden Retrievers hanging out with her. That would be nice.