It was just a small stumble. It wasn’t anything new, I’d seen it before. It could have been attributed to the hill or a gust of wind. Perhaps her foot was caught in a hole… I’d seen her do it a hundred times in the past few years, but for some reason it finally hit me how the years are starting to pile on my Grandma…
I’ve always had an odd relationship with nearly every member of my family. We’ve fought and b!tched, thrown dishes and punches. But its never been that way with my Grandma. I’ve always been closer to her. We’ve baked and we’ve cried, we’ve eaten and gardened. She’s always been incredibly supportive of all my decisions. And when I came out (after a lot of crying between the both of us), she went and saw Brokeback Mountain. And she liked it!
Anyway, back to the point, today my Grandma invited me over to her house for dinner. Its one of our things. We’ll go out to eat or go down to the Gardens. So when she called a few days ago with the invite, I jumped at the chance for a home cooked meal and the company. Every time Isee her I always help her with chores around the house, which leads us to the scene of the crime: the hild outside her house with the infamous stumble.
I’ve always known I’d have to say goodbye at some point. Its always been at the edge of my mind, just floating around. I just hope it isn’t any time soon. It may sound incredibly selfish, but I’m just not ready for her to go anywhere, least of all to the afterlife (if it does in fact exist). We still have too much to talk about, too much to laugh about…