Ti amo Nonna

Se ne è andata...

    I knew this was a possibility when I saw her sick and weak, I thought about it when I decided to come back to Bolivia, but I came anyway. I didn't believe it would happen. Just six more months, I told myself, then I'll come home and take care of her, be near her again. She didn't hold out, I was shocked, but I wasn't there to witness her pain.
    You make a choice when you decide to go away for mission, especially when you stay long-term and you just have to trust God that you are where you need to be "let the dead bury the dead," no? The most I can do right now is pray for my family (especially my mom, grandpa, aunts and uncles as they have done the most for my grandma during her illness). I can also think positively, she was definitely in a lot of pain and God is in charge, he knew it was time...

Here are some memories I have of my grandmother.



                                                              I remember...
--when I would clip and paint her nails (though she didn't always appreciate our choice of color).
--when she and grandpa used to come down to TX  when we were little and take care of us while my parents were away, doing everything for us (I don't know how they managed 4 little ones and my slowness in the morning).
--how on our MO visits, we always hoped to go to the farm first, so that when we made it to grandma's full of chigger bites, itchy legs, and longing for good food, we would have grandma to paint our bites with nail polish and take nice, warm baths to relax
--when we would laugh at the curlers in her hair & her crooked buttoning of her night gowns
--Her frustration when conversations with the cousins went to religion and got rowdy (especially when my mom and my cousin, David were involved) haha
--her appreciation of the little things we'd do for her
--Being by her side, even if we didn't talk
--telling her about my experiences at school and future plans
--I remember when I took care of her one day and I got distracted and lost her. Turns out she somehow made it down to the basement without hurting herself (oops)
--I remember how she let me cook and do my experiments as I made a mess in her kitchen (which I cleaned up of course)
--how she laughed and my sense of style (my inside out jeans, and candy wrapper earrings and crazy knee socks and tights that def. never went with my outfit),
--when we played dominoes together,
--when we'd go for walks in the Botanic Gardens and grandpa would teach me plants' names.
--seeing them hold hands as they walked together, thinking if I get married I hope my husband and I hold hands until we're old.
--allowing us to go through her junk and pick out what we thought we could use, "what are you going to do with that, throw it out"
--when her and grandpa came to cheerleading on parents' day to support me
--her stories of the past and her beautiful black and white photos
--family heirlooms she shared and a couple I got to pick out
--her smile, her easy laughter and how she always greeted me and said goodbye with a kiss

Although the journey to grandma's when I was younger was long and the car was full, we always looked forward to our visits. I enjoyed it so much I went to college nearby.

   While I was in school, I had a place to go when I was bored, when I wanted to save a dollar on laundry, when I craved Italian food or just sick of Fontbonne meals (though it wasn't too bad), when I felt alone and needed some "motherly" love and attention, when I was tired and wanted to rest away from school, when there was a family gathering or great BBQ by uncle Denis.
     There was always something happening, something good to eat, a good time or game with cousins, a snowman to be built, snow to play in, a lovely neighborhood to run in, a yard to play whiffle ball in, and a lovely pair to give, care for, listen, and most of all love anyone who entered into their home. Visiting grandma's house won't be the same without my grandma...
    Grandma, I love you so much. I wish I could have been there outside your hospital bed last night with the family, but I'm thankful that I called you last week. I didn't send you a lovely card like last year, but I got to tell you exactly what I needed to, I got to tell you that I was thinking about you and that I love you.