About 7:30 this morning my telephone rang. It was my mother. I knew the news could not be good, but I didn't think it would be as bad as it was. My grandmother had died this morning. I dropped the phone and fell silent.
When Eric finished talking to my mom, he held me as I shook and cried. "Why would my mother say such a mean thing?" I asked, not to him directly.
This was one of the days I was always dreading.
Goldie, my grandmother, was one of the lights of my life. To know her was to love her. Always with a smile and a positive attitude, she was very honest and forgiving, two traits I have always tried to have. She always turned away to other people's flaws and saw the best side of them.
She loved unconditionally, no matter who, no matter what.
When I was losing Solomon, one of the things I wanted the most was her. And she obliged by sitting quietly in the corner of my hospital room. She said nothing, she just let me rant.
When I gave birth to Alison, she was there with my mother. Her first great-grandchild had been born, and a great-granddaughter no less. And when Adam was born, she was right there too. Reveling in the love we felt for the new "little man" in our family. We gave her the honor of Sandek at his bris.
Goldie was a golden light who never wanted anything more than to be surrounded by those she loved most in the world. My life is now darker and will remain so, regardless of the joys that lie ahead.
I miss you grandma.
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Awwww, I'm so sorry, Amy. My last grandma died right after Thanksgiving this past year. I took it hard. I was the oldest grandchild and always felt a little more "special" (even if I really wasn't). My grandpa (her husband) died 10 days after Ian and I don't think I ever really grieved for him so I think her death hit me harder because it was like I finally realized grandpa was gone too.
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