My Grandmother, who I love as much as any grandchild ever loved a grandma, died today.
She just turned 93, and was failing, and really didn’t like living anymore. We knew she was about to die for the last two weeks and my mother has been sitting with her as much as humanly possible. She died this morning in her sleep with my mother at her side. My mom told me she whispered to her that I was there in spirit. I knew when I left for Africa, gram would probably die while I was gone, and I made sure we had a good and meaningful good-bye with her. However, it isn’t the same as being by her side and holding her hand and letting her know she lived a good life and many people loved her, in particularly me – and I wanted to be there and hold her hand, and I wanted her to feel the love she had earned her whole life. I wanted to hug my mother while we told each other it was for the best. I want to talk about all the awesome times we had with gram with my brothers and my cousins. I want to talk about her life with my aunts and uncles. I miss my family now!
Living in Africa, makes all travel hard. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer makes all travel expensive. Living in the world is unpredictable and even when I tried to make plans, I couldn’t know when would be the best time, or the most right time. And I gave up trying telling myself it would be ok – I had my good-bye. Now it doesn’t feel ok. I wish I had magical ruby slippers.
Dorothy Birchler Shevlin was undoubtedly one of the best things that ever happened in my life. Godspeed and all my and all of John’s love, my dearest Grandma.