A few months ago, I lost one of my very best friends, my grandma, who passed away peacefully in her sleep. I cried when I heard of the news, of course and I miss her, but there was a sense of relief that she had lived until age 96, there was a time of warning, and I felt it was her time to go. She had lived a full life with many children and grandchildren and great grandchildren along with difficult experiences which also made her into the beautiful, strong, loving person she was and is.
I was also happy she was able to see me feeling great again before she left this earth and that I was able to give her a gift I made for her, a string of beads which I had originally made into a bracelet before I knew she was dying. The bracelet oddly kept breaking after I was trying to put it together to pack it. As I packed it away it to give it to her when I had learned she was probably passing away soon, I kept some of the beads that dropped off when the bracelet was breaking as a memory, and I placed them on a small decorative plate my mother had given me on a side table in my bedroom. I realized then as I packed that the gift was best as a string of beads because a bracelet maybe would’ve been uncomfortable to wear at the time and she didn’t wear jewelry at that time either.
After arriving at her house in Brooklyn, I gave her the string of beads which I felt had harmonious colors– I remember blues, gold, silver, white, cannot remember the other colors, but something warm comes to mind, maybe a sort of pink.
When I gave her the beads, her eyes lit up, she smiled and said thank you, they are beautiful, I will have them always. She pressed them against her heart and fell right to sleep with a peaceful smile on her face.
I went to her house early in the morning some time before she passed away and made her scrambled eggs for breakfast because I remembered how she used to say I made the best eggs.
During my last time seeing her, I was reminiscing with her about her life, listening to her old favorite Frank Sinatra music which we turned on with Amazon Echo, and I asked her suddenly if she would travel anywhere in the world where she would go. I asked her this not because I thought she could or would travel at the time but I wanted to give her a pleasant dream sort of thought and I had a feeling when she left this world she’d be beyond it in a way, but still with me and everyone else.
When I asked, she said, “I would go where you live. And I would visit you every day.” That was so heartwarming. I always felt her genuine love and I felt close to her, even though I moved away from Brooklyn and was living in Massachusetts and she wasn’t able to visit my new home. I felt she genuinely loved those around her in a strong, humble way, even people she did not know but just knew of their situations. And she always had a great sense of humor, a wonderful stubbornness, and a love for cooking and wanting people to eat lots of food, more than their bellies could probably hold!
After the funeral, rain had poured incessantly, and when we stepped outside at the cemetery, it had stopped. The next day it was a sunny morning in Massachusetts. After I had gone out on the balcony and watered my plants, (my grandma always loved plants and used to talk about that), I felt her near as if from above, and looking up at the blue sky, I said quietly aloud, “I love you, Grandma.”