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Final Memoir
By: nuderabr Date: April 5, 2014, 1:14 pm
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I remember taking the exit off the highway and onto
Military Road. I don’t know how, but my dog always seemed to
know that we were almost to our destination. He would jump up
from his position on the floor of the car and climb into my lap.
He’d press his nose onto the window and wag his tail with
excitement.
I remember pulling up to that tiny house at the end of
Northwest Legion drive. After a five and a half hour drive all I
wanted to do was get out of the overly cramped car. This was
constantly a struggle; we’d all fight to be the first to push
our way out. I usually sat behind the passenger seat which made
escaping the car a bit easier for me. The air outside was a
welcoming gesture. It was clean and crisp, nothing like the air
we were all used to in the city. The sky was blue as ever
without a single cloud. The birds sang songs from high above the
trees and the wind whispered a soft ‘Hello’ as it blew across my
face.
The cottage was set on a minuscule piece of property owned
by the American Legion. My Great-Grandpa had been a World War II
pilot and was given the land after his service. The house is a
mere 150 yards from the seventh most beautiful lake in the
nation, Higgins Lake. There, the water is ice cold and clear as
glass. There is no seaweed or rocks, nothing but flawless
ripples of sand beneath the water. On the days were the sun
shines bright in the sky, the water reflects it like a million
diamonds laying atop the surface. It is by far my favorite place
to be.
I did a little dance around to car, so excited to be at the
cottage. When I was little, I didn’t think much of the tiny
house, however I’ve come to appreciate everything a lot more now
that I’m older. Before, unpacking our bags and even before
unloading the car, I would run inside to say a quick ‘Hello’ to
my great grandma. We usually called her ‘GG’, which stood for
‘Great-Grandma’, but as I got older I began to call her ‘gram’
like my mom did. She lived up there alone and from the time I
was born we would travel the long hours from Chicago to
Roscommon, Michigan to visit with her.
My GG was a very special person and similar to the home in
general, I didn’t realize that as a little kid. She was always
there waiting for us when we arrived. Sometimes, my mom would
wake my siblings and I early so that we pulled up in the mid
afternoon. But, other times my dad would wait until midevening
to leave, meaning we would drive into the night and arrive very
late. No matter the case, GG was up waiting for us.
I would step over the threshold into the breezeway that
separated the garage and the house. It smelled of the lake. GG
was very strict about not letting the sand in the house so it
tended to accumulate in the tiny room. I stood there and took in
the clean fresh air of Northern Michigan. The house wasn’t much.
There were three bedrooms, a bathroom, a tiny sitting room
combined with an eating area and a kitchen about the size of a
closet.
The cottage had been built by my great-grandfather in the
1950’s and has been in the family since then. From the time I
was a baby, my parents took me there. Every summer my family and
I would make the trip to this little house for the Fourth of
July. When I was really little, we would watch the fireworks
over the lake and stay up late to look at the stars. Being up
there was like having time stand still. I would lay on the dock
and look into the sky wondering how in the world all those stars
could exist in the universe. It was and still is, my favorite
place to relax and think.
I loved going up in the summer to visit with the lake and
my grandma. Unfortunately, as I grew older, so did GG. Soon she
could no longer care for herself on her own during those tough
Michigan winters.
In the fall of 2011, GG came to stay with us for the
winter. It was around September when she arrived. In my home, we
have a small room with red painted walls, my mom nicknamed this
the ‘Red Room’ and this is where my gram would be living for the
next eight months. I was not too thrilled for her to be staying
with us. Earlier that year, my handicapped uncle had moved in
while he was making his move from Michigan to the Chicago area.
I had to deal with that and I didn’t want to go through it
again. I regret all those thoughts now. I love my family very
dearly, but at the time it was all that my sixteen-year-old mind
could think of.
I believe it was a weekday when my grandparents made the
drive up north to pick GG up and bring her home. When I came
back from school, my grandma and grandpa along with GG were all
waiting for us. I was happy to see her, but at the same time it
was so strange to be saying hello to her in my own home rather
than at the cottage. As she got older, she rarely ever came to
visit us, I can only remember her doing so once.
I gave her a big hug and inhaled her scent. She smelled of
Dove White soap and sweet perfume. Her skin was soft, but her
body was small and her muscles weak. I would never hug her
tightly for fear of hurting her. But, despite her old age, gram
was happy and thankful as ever to be with family.
Through the course of her time with us, I didn’t spend much
of it with her. I would wake early for school and come home late
from practice. I would get straight to my homework, then go to
bed. It was my junior year in high school. I was tired,
overworked, sore, and stretched far too thin for me to handle.
The weekends were the time that I spent most with GG. I
would wake up Saturday morning and if no one had done it
already, I would make her breakfast and coffee. She would always
ask for one piece of toast with raspberry jelly on it. I would
cut it into four squares for her just the way she liked it
before serving it on top of a napkin. Then I would go about
making her coffee. Gram drank instant coffee with just the right
amount of cream and sugar. I thought it was the grossest thing
ever but the smell was warm and inviting like my grandma. In a
short amount of time I became an expert on preparing her
breakfast.
We would sit at the kitchen table while we ate. GG was born
in 1920 so she had experienced her fair share of history. I
would pass the time by asking her about everything that she had
done with her life. I sat there as she explained to me her high
school years and living through the Great Depression. That was
her favorite topic of conversation. I listened very intently. I
loved hearing all her stories and I wish I had spent more time
so I could have learned more.
After breakfast, I would get straight to the laundry. It
was not a chore I particularly liked to do, I moseyed my way
through it for most of the day. GG would ask me to bring the
clean clothes up from the basement so that she could help me
fold them. We would sit on the couch and talk; I would fold the
bigger laundry and she would pair the socks up for me to fold
together.
“Brailey, this one doesn’t have a mate.” She would say to
me as she held up a stray sock.
“Gram, it fell under your chair.” Would be my most common
response.
I enjoyed those rare Saturday mornings where I could spend
time with GG. I was fascinated with her stories about what life
was like back in the day. Having my grandma stay with us was not
at all what I was expecting it to be. I liked having her around,
it was nice to see her in an environment outside of the cottage.
I would hear her talk to my mother in the kitchen while I worked
on my homework. They would laugh and laugh about things that had
happened in the past. I loved hearing the sound of GGs laughter,
it was quiet and gentle, but it had the air of complete and
total happiness. It reminded me of a bunny which is ironic
because she was not at all like that when I was a child. It was
a nice change to see her mellow out and hear her laugh.
December 13th 2011. It was a Tuesday night and I had just
come home from cheering at a basketball game. The game went late
so as soon as I arrived home, I went straight to the computer to
start my physics homework. I didn’t even bother to change out of
my uniform. I was tired and hungry and the only thing I wanted
in the entire world was to curl up under my warm blankets and
fall asleep.
But I couldn’t, I had to sit there at the computer table
and get my homework done. I was just one room away from GG’s and
I could hear my mom moving back and forth between there and the
bathroom. I knew that gram hadn’t been doing too well lately.
She had suddenly become sick. It started off as nothing more
than a common cold, but because her immune system was weakened,
even this was a danger to her health.
I tried my best to ignore what was happening in the other
room, but it was very difficult.
“Focus on physic,” I told myself. “You need to learn this
stuff!” I had a test coming up very soon.
Despite my efforts, I wasn’t able to take my own advice and
this only made things more difficult. I wasn’t able to pay
attention to what was on the screen, I was barely even able to
hold my pencil without my hand shaking. I was worried.
The noises from the other room died down a little, either
that or I just got used to them and didn’t notice them anymore.
Either way, I was able to settle down and do some of my assigned
problems. I was calculating torque and rotational energy, it was
hard enough to focus on that without having to hear my mom
caring for my sick grandmother.
My actual grandma (GG’s daughter) had been over earlier
during the day to help my mom out and to care for her mother as
well. I don’t remember her being there when I got home, so I’m
assuming she left to return to her own home before then.
Around 10:30pm, my mom called her mom. Her voice was shaky
as she talked into the telephone. I didn’t see her but her voice
came from the dining room. My mom is one of the most calming
people I know, she rarely ever gets scared or emotional. Not
that night, her voice was anything but calm. I couldn’t make out
what she was saying. The only sounds I heard were faint
blubbering muffled by the phone receiver. It was clear however
that she was crying.
At this point, it might have been good for me to give up on
my homework and go straight to my room, but I couldn’t move, I
was stuck to the seat. My hands were sweaty and I slowly started
to cry, silent tears streaming down my face. I started praying,
I prayed to God to watch over GG. I didn’t want to lose her, not
here, not like this, not ever. However much I prayed, I knew
that I had no control over something like this. God was going to
watch over my gram and that’s all I could rely on at that point.
It took me a long time to gather my emotions. Through tear
stung eyes, I pulled myself back to my homework. I needed to get
it done; I needed to be strong for my mom and her mom and my
entire family. It was not long after that, that I heard my
mother get up to go to the bathroom. GG had asked her to wash
her teeth before going to sleep. My mom did as she was asked. I
heard the water run for a short period of time and then the soft
footsteps of my mom going back into the bedroom.
I don’t know exactly what happened next. My mom explained
to me that she sat there with GG and just moments later she
rolled herself to one side and let God take her to the heavens.
I wasn’t in the room so I have to trust what my mom says, and I
do.
From the computer table, with pencil still in hand, I heard
the sobs of my mom. They were slow and painful, I could hear her
gasping for breath between her tears. I dropped my pencil on the
desk and let my hands fall to my lap. The tears that I cried
falling steadily onto my physics homework. I was shaking all
over. On the inside, I was broken. I had never lost someone who
I had impacted my life so much. She was my GG, I never thought I
would lose her. I had never pictured my life without her and was
faced with the shocking truth that I would have to continue life
in that way.
I never would have expected to be there when my gram passed
away, but I was and I was devastated. This time, I wasn’t afraid
to really cry. There were no more silent tears, I let it all
out. I was in a state of shock. I didn’t want to believe that my
great-grandmother had just passed away in my home.
Minutes later my mom made another call.
“Mom, she’s gone. She’s gone.” I heard this over and over
again in a voice that did not match the one of my strong,
confident mother. It was something that I never would have
expected to hear come out of my mom’s mouth, ever.
My grandma showed up at our side door. I pulled myself off
the seat and found that I couldn’t walk. My legs had fallen
asleep, so with stiff legs, I walked the fifteen feet from the
computer table to the door and let my grandma in. Seeing the
tears on my face, she embraced me in a tight hug.
“It will be fine. Everything will be just fine. You don’t
need to cry. Grandma is much, much better now” She told me in a
soft voice. I could see her puffy, watery eyes, she had been
crying as well.
She held me there for a long time and when she finally
pulled away I stood there as my grandma walked from the door to
GG’s bedroom. I didn’t dare go over there. I knew that my mom
and grandma needed their space.
Painfully, I dragged myself back to the computer table. I
sat there like a statue, a statue with the expression of
complete and udder pain. I could feel my swollen eyes from the
tears I had cried. I could feel the makeup that smeared down my
face and dried leaving my cheeks feeling tight. I stayed that
way for a very long time until my mother came out of the bedroom
and over to my side. I stood up and she wrapped me in a tight
hug and we cried together. I could tell she was hurt much more
than I was and I could only imagine what my grandmother was
feeling.
“Would you like to see her, Brailey?” My mom asked me when
she had regained her composure. “She looks very peaceful, like
she’s sleeping.”
I silently shook my head “no” and continued to cry on my
mom’s shoulder. My grandma came over to us and we cried together
for a long time, sharing the same pain. I sat down and buried my
head into my mom’s stomach as my grandma wrapped her arms
comfortingly around my shoulders. I don’t know how much time
passed in that moment, but I know that I eventually had no more
tears to shed. My grandma was smiling down at me through her
watery eyes. She gently kissed both my mom and I reassuring us
that everything would be okay.
Shortly after that, I dragged myself up the stairs and into
my room. I didn’t want to be downstairs when the ambulance came.
I didn’t want to see my grandmother taken out of the house in a
black, zip-up bag.
That night I cried myself to sleep. I cried for my mom and
grandma. I cried for myself, but most importantly I cried for
the loss of my GG. I cried for the time that I didn’t get to
spend with her and for the time to come where she wouldn’t be
there.
She was buried the next week in a small cemetery up at the
cottage. The ceremony was small and sad. She was 91 years old,
so many of her friends and family had already passed. It was a
closed casket ceremony but at the end, they did open it for
those who wanted to see her face. I was one of the few. I wanted
to look at her and say a proper goodbye before she was placed in
the ground. My mom didn’t come in with me, she said that she
couldn’t bear to see GG again. She looked very peaceful laying
there and although it hurt me, I knew that she was in a much
better place. She was reunited with my Grandpa GG and I was sure
that they were both smiling down at us.
We walked from the church across the street to the cemetery
and watched the priest as he blessed the casket. They didn’t
lower her into the ground then, they did that after everyone
left. We stood there and listened to the priest as he went on
with the blessing and when he was finished everyone walked back
to the church. I stayed with my mom and grandma and we said
goodbye one more time. I had come to terms with what had
transpired in the past week and was only sad to lose my grandma.
I knew that she was happier somewhere else and most importantly,
I knew that I would always have her with me from that point on,
no matter what.
October 13th, 2013. One year and 10 months after GG passed
away, I was attending church at St. Johns Parish. It was my
second month after starting college and my family had come up
for a visit. The mass was a simple Sunday mass, nothing special
to it. The priest gave a homily about society and how people
these days feel the need to submerge themselves in the biggest
and brightest things. He explained how it’s imperative to not
forget the simple life. I stood in the church half paying
attention to what was being sad. My mind was on other things
such as school and celebrating my mom’s birthday later that day.
The priest went on to tell the congregation that it is “far
better to cleanse the soul with the simplest of options.” He
used Dove White soap as an analogy, saying that that was the
most simple you could get.
Later that day, my parents took me shopping. I needed body
soap, so obliging to what the priest said, my mom picked out
Dove White soap. I didn’t think much of it, it was cheap it came
in a pack, it would do. It wasn’t until about a week later when
I opened the soap did I remember the correlation. It smelled of
my GG. It was such a comforting, familiar smell. It brought me
to tears. I stood there, in my dorm room crying for my
great-grandma. It had been almost two years since her passing
but the pain was still very strong.
The cottage was passed onto my mom and her cousin and we
still go up there every year on the Fourth of July. It’s
different though. I don’t walk through the doors to see my
grandma reading in her chair. I walk through the doors to an
empty house where my grandma should be. Instead there are only
her things and the memories I have of her.
The cottage is still a welcoming place for me but it’s a
cold welcome. It’s not the same. The scent of the house is
different, it’s not filled with the sweet smell of GG. The
furniture is the same but it’s arranged in a different order.
The pictures have been taken off the walls and many of the
valuable items have been taken away for fear of having them
stolen. For most of the year, the house stands bare and empty
waiting for my grandma to come home.
For a long time, I couldn’t bring myself to go into GG’s
room. I didn’t feel like it would be her room without her in it.
I got over the discomfort of that and when I did enter her small
bedroom, I found almost everything in its order, almost as if it
was waiting for her. I slowly walked around the room looking at
her few belongings still in their places. I moved to the bed,
sat there and cried. I cried for a long time and prayed and
cried some more. I still cry every once and a while.
I know that my grandmother is still with me today. I wear a
necklace of hers every day, it gives me strength to know that
she is with me as I grow. Losing her was one of the hardest
things I have ever had to go through. It was painstakingly hard,
but I know that it has helped me grow. I am who I am because of
the people who have impacted my life. My Great-Grandmother will
always hold a very dear place in my heart, forever and always.
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