My mom's mom died when I was six years old. I am the oldest grandchild on that side of the family, and probably the only one with any real memories of her. My sister was four at the time, so she may have a few, but my oldest cousins were three, my brother was five months old, and several (cousins) were not even born. My oldest daughter is three.
In the middle of all this chaos, this is the first and most consistant fact that makes me angry. My children have been robbed of the relationship with their grandmother. And up until she was killed it was pretty, darn amazing.
When I was a kid, I always envied how other kids got to spend the night at grandma's or how their grandparents could show up for the afternoon program in elementary school. Between one grandma being dead and the other one living half way across the country, that wasn't really an option for me. Both my mom and I felt very strongly that with her grandkids, it was going to be different.
Although she lived four hours away, my daughters have never gone more than three weeks without seeing Mammah. The older one, we'll call her Tee-because that's what she calls herself, talked to Mammah daily by phone. She was the first person we called when Tee (finally) pooped in the potty-even before we called Daddy. Often by listening to those conversations I would learn things that Tee hadn't even bothered to tell me. And I was fine with that, loved it even. I was so excited that my daughters were going to have the quintessential grandma/ granddaughter relationhip.
Mammah was constantly making plans of things she wanted to do with her grandkids, mostly Tee, but eventually with Sweet Potato (what she called my younger daughter) and Bug (my sister's baby). She had plans for art projects, and day trips, and overnight trips. She thought nothing of driving the four hours so she could watch Tee's gymnastics show. Little treats and books and puzzles frequently arrived in the mail. The week before she died, she'd driven to our house to get Tee and took her home for a whole week. I don't think I was missed at all. They ended the week by taking the train back to our house. As excited as Tee was, Mammah was so thrilled at what was supposed to become their tradition. And this is what makes me so mad!
In just three short years, my mom and my daughter had developed such a fiercely strong, loving relationship. They had so many adventures and traditions and inside jokes. And she won't remember any of it!
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Kate may not, but YOU will. YOU will tell her loving stories of her grandmother. Stories of their adventures, of the packages, of the special trips she made to see her. Kate and Mairenn will grow up with wonderful stories of their grandparents. I know this isn't the same, but maybe it will help your heart heal a little bit each time you tell them about how much they were loved - and are still loved.
ReplyDeleteOkay....so this may sound somewhat silly, but my kids even as young as Kate is, are able to recall certain things when they are this young even a year later, obviously this memory fades as they get older. Maybe Kate has a story or two to share with you of their last trip together, memories from the train, etc. Maybe you can write down what she tells you...add a few pictures of the kids with her and you have something to share with them as they grow, even what you are writing now....
ReplyDeleteAs with what Kristy said...I know it's not the same....but perhaps you may not only have the memories that you had of their time together but you will be able to give to her something most don't get this young and that is the words from her about her Mammah....