Today we went through my grandmother’s belongings. This was the first time I had been in her house since she died. There were barking dogs and a dining room table full of jewelry for us to sift through, but no Grandma. My grandma always greeted me at the door corralling those barking dogs. Everything was the same and yet nothing was.
I have so many detailed memories of my grandma. It really surprises me. So much of life just flutters through with little detail retained as the years pass by. She didn’t flutter through. She stomped through like a wild elephant.
When you go through someone’s things, every item you recognize at once triggers a memory. Some are small and insignificant, some more impactful. I did pretty well keeping it together until it was time to leave. I had gone to look through shampoos and soaps and caught a glimpse of the spare bedroom. On the bed was a doll that I played with when I was little. I almost turned and walked away, but instead I decided to hold her.
I sat on the bed, hugged the doll, and wept. I missed my grandma. I wanted to give her a hug. I wanted to tell her about how stressed out I was. I felt like I was five years old again, but my grandma was gone. She wasn’t coming back. Maybe if I hug her tight enough this will all go away. Can we sing The Twelve Days of Christmas again? “One more time, Grandma!” I could hear myself saying.
I kept the doll. I will keep her forever. Hugging her won’t bring my grandma back, but it will keep her memory close to me. I’m not a kid anymore. I may not have my grandma to run to when I can’t figure out what to do next, but I know that she taught me enough to make it without her. She did good.
Comments