Saturday afternoon, my husband and I did away with our usual late-morning gym and lounging plans for the day. Instead, we spent the entire day with my grandparents and my parents, as a Valentine’s Day celebration. I have never been so thankful for anything in my life – that I spent one of my grandmother’s last days with her.



We had a late lunch at Houlihans, who, by the way, had a fabulous new menu. I ordered fried pickles and french fries with gravy as my meal – probably not the most lady-like item on the menu. It was the simple things that day that I remember so vividly – her buying her favorite soap at Crabtree and Evelyn, and us eating Godiva truffles that my hubby, dad, and grandpa had waited in the treacherous pre-Valentine’s Day line just to buy for us. We walked through Talbots – her favorite store – and Williams Sonoma – my favorite store. That evening after we drove back to their house, we relaxed while I layed on her couch before leaving.



I have spoke so much of Mother Lovett on my blog. Writing about her comes easily to me.



It has been hard for me to even find the words to write about my other grandmother, because even speaking about her the last few years has choked me up. Perhaps it is because I am reluctantly growing up and realizing what she means to me. Perhaps it is because she has just been too perfect for words.



This morning when I recieved the call, it was like all breath had been taken from me. I had a relationship with her that was unlike any other I share with anyone else. She was mine. Growing up, she was my favorite person on Earth. She was my favorite everything. At the time, it was because she was pretty, younger than Mother Lovett, and did fun things. As I grew older, I learned than she wasn’t just pretty, young, and fun – she was an amazing and strong woman.



I know that is said about many women, especially after they pass away. I wish I could express how different the word means here. She was the most selfless person I knew, next to my dad – who learned it from her. While I am very grateful that I got all of this time with her, my heart is completely broken. I wish I could find more words.



My grandfather found her peacefully this morning after 57 years of marriage. 57 years. Fifty-seven.

They were the perfect example of a strong, loving marriage. Growing up, I wanted what they had. I wanted the love that I saw in the marriage. I wanted the companionship, the respect, the service, and the passion. The minute my husband met them, he saw it, too. He wants it, too. They took care of each other. They lived for each other.



I want her grace. Her class. I want to carry myself the way she carried herself. I want her beauty. I want her unwavering faith.


Most of all, I just want to hear her voice. Just one last time. Her voice was so soothing to me. As I sit here now, holding a scarf that smells like her, I’m afraid I will forget her voice. She always gave the best advice, usually when it wasn’t asked for. She would speak softly and tell it like it is. When I spent months complaining about our apartment that I hated, she told me to stop. Who is going to remind me to stay strong for my husband, especially in the tough times?



I know she knew how I felt about her. I just wish I would have told her more. I told everyone else – anyone who would listen, but I didn’t tell her. So many times I thought about sending her a little note in the mail, just to know how she has changed my life. But, like so many other things in live, I failed to get around to it.


Grandma,

I just wanted to let you know what an amazing, incredible person I think you are. I love you so much. Since I have grown up and have got married, I have seen even more what a true, selfless woman you are. I have never seen someone give so much of herself to others, and ask or expect nothing in return. I hope someday to be exactly like you. I want to carry myself with class and grace, just as you do. I guess I should start by swapping my sweat pants for skirts and appreciating the smaller things in life. You are my one, true inspiration. I pray that one day I am the mother, wife and grandmother that you were to all of us. I am so very grateful to have you in my life.

Love,

Jessie



Yesterday, I commented on Pioneer Woman’s blog about how I had recently lost Mother Lovett and couldn’t imagine my life without a grandmother in it – thank goodness I still had one.



Tonight as I lay here, I have none. I have lost both in 9 months, including my husband’s grandmother who passed away last month. I don’t usually question God and I understand the circle of life. I have a pretty strong faith myself. But this has rocked me to my core. I knew it would be hard when the time came, but I thought I had 10-15 years left with her.



I have said it a million times today. I just can’t believe it. I never thought this day would come. I guess I thought putting it in writing would help me believe it, but I still can’t believe it. I can’t imagine life without her.

I know.

This too shall pass. . .