I knew that it would suck.
I knew that it would be hard.
I was right.
I'm a blubbering mess and have been all day.
To top it all off, my dreams/nightmares started the torment before I even woke up.
You see, today was one year since I received that phone call that changed my life. The phone call that told me my beloved Gramma was gone.
I know she is better off. I know she loved God and is now perfectly whole, healthy and filled with a joy that she never experienced here on earth...that no one has experienced while in this life. And I am happy for her. I really am.
I cry and ache for me. It is the selfish side of me that is hurting. It isn't the only side, but I had a good idea that side would rear its ugly head. Unfortunately, I was right.
I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to smile. I don't want to laugh.
I'm mad. Mad that the only grandparent I got to know past when I was the age of 15 is gone. Mad that the last years of her life were full of more hospital stays than life. Mad that my kids won't remember her laugh and the way her face would light up when we would walk into the room. Mad that I will NEVER leave Verizon because I saved voicemails from her and still listen to them all the time just so I can hear her voice again. Mad because I can't go back and spend more hours sitting on her porch with her talking while I play solitaire and she took care of the flies with her ever present fly swatter no matter how much I wish I could.
I don't know the stages of grief, but today I'm just mad.
I know it is stupid. I know that being mad isn't going to change anything. I know that I was very fortunate to have the time I did with her....to have all the memories I have of her. I know I should focus on them.
I guess most of all, I am mad at myself. I'm mad that I didn't adjust faster to the role of being a mom. Figuring out how to do anything with first one baby and then two was so hard for me, and I feel like I failed Gramma.
Before I had my beautiful babies, who Gramma loved so incredibly much, I was with Gramma almost daily for years. She is who I spent my lunches with when I started working just down the road. After work, she was my first stop. I would try and get her to eat her lunch and dinner and she would try to pawn it off on me. She would listen to me rattle on about whatever was flittering through my mind at the moment or we'd read the Bible or a book together. Before that, I would sit with her through her physical therapy and remind her that the staff was trying to help her and to work with them and not against them...cheer her on as she had to work back from a broken hip and celebrate with her as she was getting stronger and stronger. Before even that, we would go to the park together and go for a walk...it would be 80 out, but we'd put a blanket on her lap so she wouldn't get cold while I pushed her in her chair and we would walk round and round the path just talking. And after my divorce, she didn't judge me or condemn me. She didn't shame me. She loved me. She listened to me. She was one of my best friends.
Then I had kids.
I failed her.
And I guess that is what I am mad about the most.
I know she was upset with me for not bringing them over more. I know she wanted to see me more...see them more. I was struggling to just keep my head about water and struggling to figure out how I could be a good mom and a good grand-daughter and a good everything...and I never did figure it out in time.
I see some moms who seem to adapt seamlessly into being a new mommy and going everywhere with their little one and make it look so daggone easy. But it wasn't for me. It was a struggle. Heck, Iyla is over a year and a half old and I am just NOW getting to where I am not scared to take both kids out at the same time on my own. I'm slow on this. I didn't know I would be. I had always wanted to be a mom. I had no idea it would be such a hard adjustment for me. But it was and is, and now she has been gone for a year. And it is too late. In the last 2 years and 11 months of her life, I couldn't be what she wanted or needed me to be. I know you aren't supposed to live with regret and usually do very well in not doing that. However, in this regret, I am having an incredibly hard time.
Gramma, please forgive me. Please know that I tried. I know that I disappointed you, but I hope you know just as much that I am so so very sorry. Oh how I wish you could have hung on for just a few years more so that I could have had a chance to make it up to you once I got the hang of all of this...but I guess that is selfish of me. Just know that I am sorry...I love you so very much...I still miss you with an ache that is all consuming at times.
They say it gets easier with time. I hope "they" are right. One year and 23 hours and 32 minutes down since I got that phone call...here's hoping that each of the next 364 days will take me in the direction of forgiveness of myself, healing of my broken heart and to the place where Gramma would want me...smiling as I remember how wonderful spending time with her was.