Grandma

There was once a woman who lived on this earth, who had a heart of gold. She was filled with compassion and love. She loved her husband, her children, her grandchildren and in the very end, her great grandchildren.  She was truly a woman of God. And she is my grandmother. It surprises me, and makes me smile to know that 11 years after her passing, she would be remain the most powerful and influential person in my catholic life.  My only regret is that I wish I could tell her that, and apologize to her that her last years of life were when I was a snotty teenager.

My grandmother was the example of the woman I want to be, the Proverbs 31 Woman.  She woke early every day to start preparing for her family, be it working herself or taking care of children/grandchildren.  She always made sure my Ba (grandfather) was well taken care of, even at the end of his life when Alzheimer's took over-as much as it broke her heart when he couldn't remember who she was, she always took care of him.

My favorite memory of her is laying in her bed, while she would sing "you are my sunshine" and then we would pretend her bed was a magic carpet-and we could go anywhere. "Take me to Paris" she would say, and off we would go, soaring high above the city, looking down at the crowds. "Take me to Rome" and off we would go again, "Bombay, London, South Africa, Washington DC"-until my sleepy eyes couldn't stay open any longer, we would say our Hail Mary and I would go off to bed.

I wish she were here now, just to talk to. Just to sit on her bed, or sit in the living room and just chat. To tell her all the things I now know, and how I wish I listened to her then.  She would love Zoe, my little bossy bratty daughter, and probably say she has a strong spirit.  She would love to listen to Tony's stories and would probably read all of what he writes. She would love to watch JJ play and just be a kid...he would be the kid that out climbed the record climb in the apple tree at there house ( a record proudly held by me-and sadly that tree is long gone.)
She would be happy to know that I found a good Irish Catholic boy that I love, and his three children that I adore.  She would love them as though they were biologically mine.  When I think about how much I love them, I can hear my grandma tell me a poem she found when she adopted my mom and uncle;
Not flesh of my flesh
Nor bone of my bone,
But still miraculously my own.
Never forget for a single minute,
You didn't grow under my heart,
But in it.

I would tell her over tea how stressed out I get. How much my job feels like it sucks out my soul at times.  How I wonder how food will end up on the table, or how the bills will be paid.  I will tell her my fears of loneliness, how the quiet can haunt me, yet then there are days when I seek solitude and silence. She would remind me, because she does still in my dreams, that I will be OK. That the Lord has his eye one me, and that one day-I will look back on everything and it will all make sense. She always knew what to say, to comfort me, no matter what happens.

I love you Grandma...all the way to the moon and back.