Yesterday wasn’t just Valentine’s Day.
It marked one year since I had seen my grandma (my paternal grandmother, not Mother Lovett) for the last time. I’ve mentioned it before, but I am just so, so grateful that Mr. How Sweet and I spent last Valentine’s day with my parents and grandparents. Having no idea that in less than 48 hours she would be taken from us so suddenly (a mere 8 months since Mother Lovett’s death), the last day we spent together could not have been better. It was simple, beginning with lunch, moving on to shopping, and ending with eating truffles from Godiva – something we had done many times before. But as I get older, it is evident that easy, simple moments are the ones that I remember the most and mean everything to me.
I didn’t realize it before, but I find it ironic that we spent what is supposed to be the “most romantic day of they year” with the two couples I admired most in the world. Ah… life lessons! You may remember the wise words my grandma mentioned to Mr. How Sweet and me last Christmas – words that carry so much meaning, words that I believe have single-handedly helped our marriage grow, saved our marriage, and given us faith for the future.
Tomorrow marks one year since she passed. Some times it feels like it has been years, other times it feels like it has been minutes. And since most of you have experienced death, I know you know exactly what I’m talking about.
You may remember that on the day she died, I brought home with me the scarf that she had worn on Valentine’s Day and actually slept with it for awhile since it smelled like her. It has been in our bedroom for an entire year, moving from my pillow to the nightstand to the floor (I certainly did not inherit her cleanliness) to my closet, but it has always been in view when I’m in the room. At first I used to pick it up and inhale her scent every morning before work, the minute I got home, and before I went to bed. As expected, that ritual dwindled as time and life passed, lessening to once a day, or every few days, or even once a week.
Strangely enough, I picked it up yesterday and could no longer smell her scent. It’s almost as if it disappeared overnight.
There have been 3 moments in the last year when I actually felt her presence, times where I feel that she was with me – the last even hearing her call my name. I’ve started to write about it before but it freaks me out so much that I can never continue. I can clearly remember in religion class during elementary school one of my teachers saying that “spirits only visit you if you welcome them.” I definitely thought that was a load of baloney. I was never inviting any spirit to visit me! I certainly don’t want anyone or anything visiting me, unless it is in the flesh. Heck, I don’t even really want anyone in the flesh visiting me unless I know them or their name is George Clooney. I’m a full fledged scaredy cat.
I was so scared this time last year when the thought of forgetting certain things about her loomed. Right before the casket closed, my dad said, “she will live on in you.” That has been what I’m working towards since I last saw her. I have a long ways to go, but I want to be exactly like the wonderful lady she was. But I never want anyone to call me a lady, because then I’ll feel old. And to begin becoming a lady, I should probably stop wearing sweat pants everyday.
As sad as we all are that she is gone, none of us can really be angry when she lived a long, active, healthy life and was taken as peacefully as possible. That’s what we are going to celebrate tomorrow – her life.
In short – go hug your grandma if she’s still kickin’!