Grandma’s Boy

As a child, I wasn’t able to develop a relationship with my biological mother. We had nothing in common and could never get along. Our relationship was toxic throughout my entire childhood. Thankfully, the love my mom couldn’t give me, I found in my two grandmothers.

Growing up, I’d get dropped off at my Grandmother’s house when my parents needed a babysitter. There was no greater feeling than knowing I’d be spending the day with them. At my Grandma’s house, I had two of my Grandmothers. My Dad’s mother, “Della,” and her mother, “Lucille,” who was my Great-Grandma.

I always loved both of my grandmothers, but initially formed a stronger bond with my Grandma Della.

When I was a kid, my Grandma Della was the joy of my life. I clung to her, and she gave me all the love I was missing at home. We spent a lot of time together watching TV, playing board games, hanging out, and enjoying each other’s company. It was well known in the family that I was her favorite grandchild. She never had a lot of money, but made sure to help out when she could. When they handed out book catalogs at school, she would give me money to help me buy a book.

My Grandma Della died of breast cancer when I was in Middle School. I witnessed her gradually lose her life. As her cancer developed, she became unhappy, lost weight, and began losing her hair. She went through chemotherapy, but it only helped so much, and like countless other women, she lost her life. I saw her in the hospital in her final days, bald with multiple tubes connected to her body. It was devastating to lose my Grandma, and I have no doubt that if she were alive now, she’d be my best friend.

Once she passed away, all the love and attention I gave her naturally shifted to my Great-Grandma. Even though I spent a lot of time with my Grandma Della, I still had a strong relationship with my Great-Grandma Lucille since they both lived together.

My Great-Grandma Lucille, aka Mom, was a blessing to our whole family. She helped raise everyone and even treated kids that weren’t hers like they were her own. She grew up working in fields picking fruits and vegetables, and spent most of her adult life working in a factory. When she retired, she loved to relax and watch game shows like The Price Is Right and John Wayne western movies.

Mom was loving and caring, and would help anyone however she could. She was the rock of the family, and more than anything, she loved spending time with her loved ones. I can’t recall ever hearing her complain about money or not having material things.

The funny thing about our relationship is that we never had deep conversations about my personal life. She just loves me, and I love her. There are some people in life who you like to be around because they have positive energy and a sense of calm, and my Grandma Lucille was that type of person for me.

There were times I felt like I didn’t have any friends and everything was going wrong, but she’d always be there for me, indifferent to the chaos surrounding me. In life, I feel like the most common type of love is conditional (I’ll love you as long as you provide x or do y for me), but the love I felt from her was unconditional. She loved me, even during times I knew I didn’t deserve to be loved.

If I had a bad day, I could always go to her room and find her sitting in her chair watching TV or quietly reading a book. Sometimes I’d lie on her bed and watch a Lifetime movie with her, even though I couldn’t stand them, just to be around her.

There was a time when I was a young adult, and I had to share a room with her. One night, I was lying down around 1 AM listening to Jay-Z’s song “Lost One.” In the third verse, Jay-Z talks about a loss that occurred in his family. It made me think for a moment about a day when I would no longer have my Grandmother with me. I listened to her breathe heavily while she slept, and I started to cry on the floor next to her. I hadn’t considered that she was in her 90s, and inevitably, there would be a day when she’d pass away, and we’d be separated.

I developed a sense of urgency and prioritized checking in with my Grandma every day. When I got home from work, I’d go to her room and say hi, and before I went to sleep, I’d kiss her goodnight. Even if I was too exhausted to walk across the house, I’d call her and say goodnight over the phone.

I began to understand how much she meant to me. When I thought about my life as a whole, it sank in how much she’d done for me over the course of my life. I have many other family members who love and care about me, but she gave me that motherly love that’s so important for a man.

As my Grandma got older, she began needing more care and attention. It got to the point where she needed help getting out of bed and going to the bathroom. I worried all day while I was at work that she would hurt herself or be defenseless if someone were to break in. Eventually, her daughter stepped up to take care of her. It was bittersweet. She had lived with me my entire life, and now she was moving a few hours away.

I knew she needed full-time care and made peace with the decision. I felt comfortable knowing she had someone there 24/7 to assist her. My family and I agreed to visit as often as possible and call regularly to check on her.

My Grandma recently turned 97 and is still doing well to this day. For everything that went wrong in my life, I feel blessed to have enjoyed my Grandmother’s presence this long and pray that she’s with me even longer. I felt like giving up many times, but she inspired me to keep going despite all the adversity I faced.

2pac has a line in his song “Thugz Mansion” where he says

“So much pressure in this life of mine, I cry at times
I once contemplated suicide, and woulda tried
But when I held that 9, all I could see was mama’s eyes“

I understood exactly what he meant. There were times I felt hopeless, but knowing my Grandma needed me kept me going. I’m forever grateful for my Grandmothers and what they’ve done for me. Because of them I know how important love is and how it can help someone get through life and all the challenges it throws at you. Even though my Grandma Della passed away, I’ll always keep her in my heart, and I’ll continue loving my Great-Grandma Lucille until her final day.

Update

In March of 2020, I called my Grandma to let her know I was visiting soon, but her daughter answered the phone in tears. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me my Grandma wasn’t doing well. I told her to stay strong and let her know we’d be coming over that weekend. The conversation left me with a bad feeling, but I assumed my Grandma was just having a bad day and my aunt was being a little dramatic.

The next day, I headed to work and started my shift. Shortly after arriving, I got a text from my family saying my Grandma had been rushed to the hospital and to come home. I gathered my stuff and left work. Once I got home, my family and I drove to my aunt’s house to regroup and head to the hospital.

Once we got there, we hustled to the emergency room. It was a long walk, and every step felt like it took forever. When we walked in, the receptionist asked us questions about our health to ensure we weren’t a danger to anyone in the hospital. This was around the time the coronavirus was dominating the news, and hospitals were beginning to implement strict rules about who could visit.

I waited my turn and was unsure what to expect when I got to my Grandmothers’ room.

Eventually, one of my family members came down and told me it was my turn to go up. I walked nervously to my Grandma’s room. When I arrived, she was heavily sedated in a comatose state. Her arms were bruised, and she looked like she was in extreme pain. Tears began falling as I watched my Grandma dying in front of me. I walked up close to her and told her I loved her and that she meant everything to me. She couldn’t respond, but it seemed like she could hear me, because when I told her how much I loved her, she smiled.

I left her room and headed back to the lobby. When I got there, a nurse was meeting with my family. They informed us they were moving forward with hospice care at my aunt’s house. As soon as I heard the word “Hospice,” it hit me that my Grandmother was going to die. I listened to what the nurse told my family, but couldn’t focus because I was so upset.

After meeting with the nurse, everyone decided to go home and meet at my aunt’s the following day when they transported my Grandma out of the hospital. They asked if we wanted to see her again before we left, and most of us declined. My Grandma looked nothing like herself, and I didn’t want to see her like that again.

I did my best to relax for the remainder of the evening. Close to 1 AM, I got a text from my aunt informing me that the doctors said my Grandma wasn’t likely to make it to the morning. My family and I headed over to the hospital, but on the way there, I got another text that my Grandma had passed away. As a courtesy, they left her body in the hospital room so we could see her one last time.

We got to the hospital and headed to her room. Once we walked in, I saw my Grandma lying on her bed with her head tilted up and mouth slightly open, motionless and dead. We sat in the room in silence for a few moments and then left. When I kissed my Grandma on her forehead on the way out, I could feel the coldness of her lifeless body.

The first thing I noticed when my Grandma passed away was the intense feelings of regret that attacked my mind. I should’ve called more, I should’ve visited more, etc. Even though I know I was a good grandson, I started thinking about all the times I missed opportunities to see her. As soon as someone passes away, we immediately see where we fell short in the relationship, no matter how big or small.

We were supposed to visit my Grandma a week before she passed, but my family rescheduled for the following weekend when she ended up dying. I always warned my family that it was dangerous to reschedule visits because we didn’t know when she’d pass. So the first thing I wanted to do when she died was yell at my family, “I told you so! We could have had one more visit, but because you rescheduled, we lost our last chance to see her.”

I held my tongue because I knew my family had no way of knowing my Grandma would die. If they had known she only had another week to live, they wouldn’t have canceled our visit. Still, it hurt to have my Grandma taken away from me a few days before I was scheduled to see her again.

Even though I’m sad she’s gone, I feel blessed she got to live for 97 years. I can’t really complain about her death when most people’s grandparents don’t make it anywhere near that age. I’m grateful she was with us that long, and I’m glad I let her know how much she meant to me before she passed. I don’t think there’s anything worse than losing someone you love and knowing inside that you never told them that you loved them. Death is real and random, so you want to make sure you say what you want while you still have the opportunity.

Even though I’m sad she’s gone, I’m blessed she got to live for 97 years. I can’t complain about her death when most people’s grandparents don’t make it near that age. I’m grateful she was with us that long, and I’m glad I let her know how much she meant to me before she passed. I don’t think there’s anything worse than losing someone you love and knowing you never told them that you loved them. Death is real and random, so make sure you say what you want while you still have the chance.

For now, my angel and I have been separated. If I’m lucky enough to make it to heaven, we’ll reunite again someday. Until then, I’ll cherish our memories and carry them with me. She was the best thing to ever happen to me, and I miss her dearly. There will never be another person I love as much as her, and even though she’s gone, I’ll always consider myself a Grandma’s boy.