Thursday, April 14, 2011

Missing You

When I met your grandson back in the summer of 2001, I was smitten. We were together all the time. We spent hours walking around town, sitting in parks and coffee shops and staying up late talking. We talked about everything to do with our lives and within a week we knew we wanted to be together. But one of the things I couldn't wrap my head around was his distance from you...his grandmother.

He told me it just hadn't been the same since his mom, your daughter, died when he was 12. Well, we were now 12 year on and this distance wasn't getting any shorter. It just wouldn't do. No man of mine was going to keep his family at bay. So I told him he needed to start calling you more often. He did. I told him he needed to keep up to date on his life. He did. I told him he needed to go visit you and that if he felt like taking me with him to make introductions, that would be fine too.

So he did.

On Christmas Day.

Do you remember? I do. The looks on all your faces were priceless! He'd not only shown up when he was asked to, but he showed up with a girl in tow. Hmmm, maybe he was serious about this chick. But they'd only been together a few months.

Wait. What?!

Yeah...your expressions got even better after we announced we were already engaged.

And pregnant.

Holy crap on a stick....what was he thinking?! Um, I can tell you now that he wasn't. Neither of us was. I was so intent on getting him to mend his broken fences that I hadn't really thought through the whole process.

I have to hand it to you though. You were awesomeness personified. You welcomed me with open arms, made me feel like I belonged there and even ran around raiding other people's stockings so that you could give me something for Christmas. You fed me, you laughed with me (and AT me), and you hugged me as hard as you could when we left to go home.

I truly believe that on that Christmas night in 2001, I became a part of your family for real.

I never had a mother in law, she'd been gone for years...but you filled the part well. Over the next 9 years we laughed, we cried, we reminisced, we cried some more and hey...we laughed a LOT.

When Hotty Hubby and I separated, you didn't turn your back on me and the kids. If anything, you held on tighter. When we reconciled, you celebrated just as much as we did. You were there for birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter and many more inconsequential days.

I never told you, but you were a huge influence in my life and the way I live it. You gave me courage and made me realise it just didn't matter what other people thought of me. Your opinion was important to me.

When we started talking about moving to New Zealand, the biggest obstacle for me was you. I hated the idea of leaving you behind. We knew that you weren't going to be around forever and that if we left, we'd likely never see you again. We almost changed our minds but then you turned the tables. You gave us your blessing and sent us on our way. I will be eternally grateful for that.

Last week, we heard you were in hospital. Again. My heart started to break. Again. I prayed and hoped and crossed every cross-able appendage in an effort to convince whatever Powers That Be that were paying attention to just make you better.

Three days ago, I arrived home from work to hear that you were gone.

I know that you are in that better place that everyone talks about. I know that you're not hurting anymore. I know that you're happy to not be connected to all those tubes and wires anymore, because they just pissed you off. More than anything, I know that you're happy to be with your equally awesome husband, Art, and your beautiful daughter, Susan, again.

But that doesn't make it any easier for us down here. We miss you. Deeply.

I'm not entirely sure how Hotty Hubby is taking it. You know him, he's stoic. I know he's hurting, I just don't think he knows how to express that. Maybe I need to take him to the shooting range and let him blow crap away.

Boy Spawn doesn't fully understand the whole concept of death. He knows you're gone, he knows he won't see you again, but I think that's as far as it goes right now.

Girl Spawn? Well. She crumbled. You and her always had a very special relationship. I never fully understood the connection between the two of you, but I knew it was amazing. The two of you were...well, fantastic. She cried. A lot. She misses you so much and, like the rest of us, wishes she had been able to say goodbye.

As for me, it doesn't quite seem real to me. Or maybe I just don't want it to be. I continue to process, I continue to cry and I continue to wish it were all a dream.

Beth, you were an awesome woman who made us all laugh and smile. You gave the best hugs, some great advice and even taught me a few things. I hope that wherever you are, you're with Art & Susan and looking down on us. I'm sure that if you are, you're sitting there thinking "well, shit......that boy needs to shave, Maggie's lookin' good, and the kids are as bouncy as ever".

Rest in Peace, Mama Beth......we'll miss you forever. xxx

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  1. Love this, a great tribute to Mama Beth.

  2. *sob*
    That is beautiful.

  3. So beautiful. And I'm so sorry for your loss. How lucky you are to have had her. And how lucky she was to have had you!

  4. What a beautiful tribute! I'm sorry for your loss.

  5. This was so beautiful and a wonderful tribute. So sorry to hear about this.

  6. So beautiful!! You were very lucky to have a wonderful relationship with her. I am so sorry to hear about her passing.

  7. This truly made me cry.

    Such a beautiful tribute.



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