As my grandmother nears the end of her life, memories have
flooded in, cascading over the sad reality that she will no longer be with us.
Easily my fondest memory (that is also slightly embarrassing
to me at least) was my first visit to Phoenix. I want to say I was twelve or
thirteen years old. It was in the fall. My cousin Parker and I thought it would
be smart to play football outside on a rock-and-cactus-covered front lawn. Sure
enough, after a few minutes of horsing around, I managed to trip and fall
backwards onto some sort of cactus. As I stood up from the cactus, everyone
laughed/gasped as numerous needles were visibly poking through my jeans.
Parker and his sisters help me waddle inside, and my mom
takes me into the bathroom. This is where Grandma comes in. As Mom is helping
me pull needles out of my butt, Grandma is nearly hysterical.
“OH MY GOSH!” She exclaimed to everyone in the front room.
“Look at his butt!” My grandpa Reed was sitting in his favorite chair, trying
not to laugh, as she wanted everyone to look at my needle-infested bum. I don’t
know how many people saw my behind, but she went on for quite some time about
it. She made it sound like my ass was covered in a forest of needles. In
reality, I maybe had ten to fifteen.
“I don’t need to see the boy’s behind, Elizabeth,” Reed
laughed. Finally, my mom closed the bathroom door before more hysteria could
occur. This was a classic memory I will remember forever.
There was also a dark moment of my life, when I was the most
depressed and the most in need of help. I reached out to Grandma, and she gave
me money when I was most desperate, and did so without question. This is the
Grandma I will remember.
She always wanted to make sure I was fed. She would send me
home with food. Was I comfortable? Did I need anything?
I know even as I write this, she wants me going to church
and raising a family, but ultimately, she knows I am happy and content, and she
can accept that.
Is she perfect? Of course not, but she is my Grandma, and
she loves her grandkids with a fiery passion that is seen in how my mother
loves her children and grandchildren.
She will be missed. Whatever happens after this life, I she
finds peace.
