My grandma died last weekend. It’s sort of just one of those things grandparents do, like watch Jeopardy and ask about your “cash flow situation” and give you 11 toothbrushes because they only needed 1 but bought the family pack from BJ’s. As painful as it is and as much as my heart breaks every time I’m reminded of her throughout each day, there are so many silver linings that I’ve taken it upon myself to find.

1. My technologically-challenged grandma can finally read my blog! I don’t think I ever even told her I had a blog, knowing that she’d never stand a chance on the computer and, even if I pulled it up on the screen for her, there was no shot she’d be able to read the “tiny words.” Perfect timing, granny.

2. For the first time since moving to Hot-lanta almost 2 years ago, grandpa will be allowed to turn on the AC…so that’s good.

3. No more mouse ears! By the end, granny was on oxygen and absolutely hated it; so much so that, despite the fact that her left arm was completely immobile and her right arm moved as though she was dragging it through a pool of molasses, she would spend a solid 7 minutes raising her arm from the bed, up to the side of her face, to the clear tubes wrapped over her ears, and try to tug. When I asked what she was trying to do, she’d say “Stef, these damn mouse ears are such a pain!”

4. My grandpa, who spent the past decade by her side through her health struggles, was finally able to travel and see my cousin swim at Davidson. My cousins have been swimming since they were born; this was the first time my grandpa was waiting poolside with one of his signature bear hugs.

5. Filene’s! My grandma was quite a Filene’s fan and left me a distraught voicemail at the end of 2011 when she found out they were closing shop. Considering I believe that all truly amazing things go to heaven when they die, I have no doubt my grandma has been reunited with her favorite bargain shop.

In the wise words of someone who clearly shared my grandma’s affinity for butterflies…”just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, she became a butterfly.”

Miss you, Ellie.



One thought on “Ellie

  1. Pingback: Almost 30. | unsolicited sarcasm

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