Grandma Gail

My Grandma Gail is the only grandmother I've ever known on my mom's side of the family. As far as I remember, she has always been warm, kind, and cheerful. I haven't seen her very often- only once every five to ten years as she and my Grandpa live in Florida. I always thought of her as my "crafty" relative. She loved to crochet and in more recent years she began making elaborate cards for birthdays and holidays. She never missed even one. I have a pile of cards I've been collecting from her that sits on my counter as a reminder to finally call her. I don't think I've talked to her since Christmas, and since then she's sent a card for Matthew's birthday and one for Easter. It's her way of showing she cares, and I really do appreciate them, so I wanted to call her up and thank her.

I'll never get that chance. Two nights ago, my Grandma Gail suddenly and unexpectedly passed away.

This grief is strange, and in some ways too familiar. I guess I sometimes imagine what would happen if I lost a family member, and it's not like this. I feel a dull, confusing sadness. I wasn't terribly close to Gail, but she was my grandmother and I loved her. What are you supposed to feel when you lose someone you didn't know very well? This brings me back to the weeks following our miscarriage. We had known for about a week that I was pregnant, and suddenly our baby was gone; just long enough to begin to plan for this little new person's life and to feel disappointed and sad that none of those plans would come to fruition. We didn't know our baby well. We didn't even get much of a chance to envision their future. But we felt their loss, and for me it translated into a background sadness and depression or longing for a few weeks. It was confusing because it wasn't a deep, cutting grief and because everyone else went on as if nothing had happened at all.

I am sad that Gail is gone. I am sad for my Grandpa, who is now alone without much family nearby. I'm sad for her children. But more than that, I feel guilty. I hate talking on the phone, but I should have made the time to call my Grandma. I used the excuse of being busy, being tired, not having enough time for a full conversation, etc. I imagined I'd always have more time. Instead, Gail left this world without knowing how much I appreciate her cards.

If I could make that final call, I would tell her thank you- thank you for the cards that she put so much effort into making, and thank you for thinking of us. I'd thank her for caring. I'd send her more pictures of the kids. I'd tell her about the video I took just for her- of the kids' excited reactions when they opened up her Halloween card. I never got around to sending that video. I would have made the time to set up Skype so she could actually see the kids and talk to them. I'd just listen to her talk (she was so much more talkative than me!), knowing that listening is one of the greatest gifts you can give some people. I'd want her to know that she holds a special place in our special little family and she brightens our lives by reaching out to us with her cards and emails.

I wish I could have said goodbye, but it's too late to let my Grandma know I cared. I guess all I can do is avoid making the same mistake by letting people know how important they are when I have the chance.