It's such an odd thing to hear your parents cry...to hear the hurt and the sadness in their voice over the phone across the miles. I picked up the phone tonight while I was in the middle of checking Emma's BG before bed. I said hello and was met with my Mom's voice...upset...quiet...tear filled. In an instant my focus was ripped from the monotony and routine of being the parent of a diabetic...and my heart flew across the border to the states...to my Mom and Dad's house. The tears stung my eyes and my heart began pounding. My Mom was calling to tell me that my Grandma had passed away tonight. She had been sick for years with Alzheimer's and more recently had a stroke...she was not meant for this world any longer...she needed to be free...she needed to be rid of the mind and body that had failed her.
A few years ago when Emma and I had gone home to visit and be there for my brother's wedding, my Grandma came over to see us. I very vividly remember sitting there with her and knowing that she had no idea who I was anymore...she looked at me like I was a stranger...it hurt my heart, but I knew that it was inevitable...I didn't live there...she didn't see me on a regular basis...the alzheimer's was stealing away her memories and her mind. When I left to return back to Canada after that visit, I made peace with it...I said my own version of my goodbyes to her at that time. My Grandma was a wonderful woman. She collected dolls, she played games with us when we were kids, she was the type of Grandma who would get down on the floor and sit there with you and play. Every year for Easter she would make up a huge basket full of candy for my brother and I...I loved it...it made me feel special...it made me feel important because I thought she was so tight with the Easter bunny that he dropped off a basket for us at her house too simply because she asked him to. Every year for Halloween my Dad would bring my brother and I over to my grandparents house. He would park down the street and Joe (my brother) and I would walk up to the house and pretend like we were just regular trick or treaters...my grandparents would open the door and we would giggle away wondering how long it would take for them to recognize us. Sometimes it took a long time...at the time I thought it was because we were so sneaky and were wearing great costumes...now as an adult, I know that they probably were just playing along to make us smile...to make us feel good. I love her for doing things like that. I love her for giving me my Dad. I could not have in a million years ever dreamed of having a Dad as incredible as the one I got. He is my hero. He is what I measure all men to. In my eyes he is perfect. He's funny...he's smart...he's the strongest man I know...he has taught me so much in this life that there is absolutely no way I could ever repay him. Everyone has always told me that I look like my Dad, I act like him, I have the same type of personality as him...to me that is one of the greatest compliments I have ever received. So, I thank my Grandma for giving me my Dad. I hope she knows how much he means to me...I hope she knows how much she means to me.
I hope my Grandma is up in Heaven now starting a new collection of dolls...finding the most special ones that she could ever hope to find. I hope that she is at peace. I hope that she is playing golf with my Grandpa again. I hope that she is laughing and running freely with no pain...no fear...no sadness. I hope that she is loving every single moment and enjoying all of the beauty around her. I love you Grandma and I will see you again one day. Thank you for everything you gave me and please give Grandpa a kiss and hug for me too...and tell him I love and miss him too.