Gloria: My Greatest Gift

Today, on this Mother's Day, I gave my grandmother a card. I picked it out because it had a Bible verse on it, and she eats that kind of thing up, but more than that, it was exactly what I wanted to say to her today: That she is an incredible gift.

The message I wrote inside told her how very much I love her, how thankful I am for her, and how every day I spend with her is a day I'll always remember. She took a while to read it; she has trouble seeing things up close now. As she reached the end of my message, her weak eyes gave into tears and she covered them up with her sleeve. I told her, "You don't have to be sad."

But I could tell exactly what she was thinking at that moment; it's something she's told me a time or two before: She doesn't want to leave me. I remember getting a phone call from her hospital room in November -- she was exhausted by her illnesses, by being stuck in the hospital for so long, by being away from my mom, me and her friends for so long. We talked about my day, and there was a pause for a moment; her voice came back through the line, distorted by sobbing, telling me she wasn't ready to go yet, that she wasn't ready to leave me. Today, however, she told me she was.

Being confined to a bed for the seventh month in a row, never having a change of scenery, every day blending together -- today she said it out loud: She's had enough. I don't blame her. I reluctantly have been thinking over the past couple of months, it's just no way for anyone to live, let alone someone I love so much. But it's so hard to think that the alternative is not having her here at all; then, my selfish side kicks in and I decide I'd rather have her like this than not at all.

But what she deserves now is a little peace. She looked over at a photo of my grandpa Joey that she keeps by her bed and said, "I'm ready for him to come down in his white suit and take me dancing." How she loves him and misses him so, and the thought that when she is gone, they will be together again is one of the most comforting thoughts for me.

But, it's been hard for me to accept that my life is going to change a great deal when she's gone. I haven't been quite able to picture my life without her. Having her in my life is all I've ever known. When I think about days ahead when I won't be able to hear her voice, see her smile, or kiss her cheek, it brings me a feeling of intense emptiness. She's like a best friend: When something exciting happens in my life, I want to share it with her. She has been so proud of me and what I've been accomplishing; to not have that anymore seems unbearable.  

It's almost as though I've been trying to prepare myself for those things, knowing that she probably won't be with me much longer. But no matter how I try to anticipate it and how I will feel, it will in no way prepare me for the rest of my life without her.

So on this Mother's Day, I am extremely grateful for every memory, every moment I have shared with this loving lady. She's given up more for me than I'll ever know, and she's loved me more than I could ever imagine. For now, I just want to be here with her, to memorize her face, to hold her hand until the day comes when I must let it go.