My Counterpart: a Go-To Grammy

My grandchildren’s Grammy, in other words—my counterpart—passed away on Father’s day.  Up until the last half year of her life, she was a vital woman and a go-to grandma.  She and her husband were married for nearly 44 years–two months less than I have been married to mine.  He wrote her eulogy, a beautiful tribute to his wife and their marriage.  The eulogy was hard for him to deliver at the funeral; he did it, but broke down.  My 6-year old granddaughter sat beside me, my arm around her holding on tight.  She cried when she saw her grandfather cry.  My 3-year-old grandson was a little wiggly in my lap; he being too young to understand.

Really, none of us “understands.”  Sure we know that we all live, and then we all die.  But we would drive ourselves to madness if we tried to make sense of the who’s and the how’s and the why’s, or the “fairness” of it all.

It’s also so hard to know what to say to someone who is unexpectedly diagnosed with cancer and decides not to undergo treatment.  So I tried to express my feelings by telling her:

“I am thinking about…

how overwhelmed you must have felt at the seemingly sudden onset of your disease;

how difficult it has been for you to decide what path to take;

the strength of your convictions in deciding your course of action;

your incredibly difficult decision and the courage of your choice;

how you are living life on your own terms;

the wonderful job you have done raising your children who have pulled together in providing support, in respecting your right to choose, and in demonstrating their unconditional love for you;

how much your daughter loves you;

how I hope my son is able to tell you how deeply he loves and respects you, but that if he cannot find his way to speak of his emotions, that you will trust me when I say that he does;

how I will always tell our grandchilden how much love their Grammy has for them and how much joy they have given you.”

And then, at a later date, when the end was drawing near, I sent:

“A Heartfelt Message”

You have given our family a precious gift—YOUR DAUGHTER.

Your kind and gentle nature lives through her.

You have instilled in her the values of  love, patience and honesty.

And so it passes—from mother, to daughter, to granddaughter.

Strong women, all.

I can only hope that these words somehow helped.  I think they are what I would like to hear.

Barbara Matthews