Dear Grandma

June 19, 2006



Dear Grandma,
How’s it going up in heaven? You did so many good things in your life. I couldn’t imagine you anywhere else. Someone who takes care of their husband like you did for so long, deserves a spot in heaven in my mind. Not everyone can care for their bed-ridden husband like you did for so many years.
I’m writing this letter to ask you a question. Why did you choose to die? I really do think it was a choice you made. Your own mother had breast cancer and yet at the age of 65 you hadn’t ever had a mammogram. Your life had just begun again when grandpa died and you married Paul. You got to travel all over the world, and do all the things you couldn’t do when you were caring for grandpa.
But by the time you decided you needed to go see a doctor, the lump was too large and the cancer had most likely gone into your bone. As you laid in recovery, you had that stroke. That was the day you died for me.
I won’t let myself remember those last ten years of your life. You amazed the doctors when you began to walk and talk. I refuse to remember that woman you became. You might have become better, more like yourself if you would have done what the doctors encouraged. If you would have continued your therapy, but you and Paul decided to leave the hospital. You just wanted to go home.
I’ve thrown away all the pictures of you after the stroke. I won’t allow that image of you to penetrate my mind. My image of you will always be the heavyset woman always dressed fashionably in pink. The woman who always had the best manicured nail and went to the beauty salon once a week to have your hair done perfectly. I will only remember the grandma who took us to the zoo or to all the parades. When we came to visit you, we went out for dinner or played a game of croquet. We went to amusement parks, played board games, and took walks to the park. We’d go putt putt golfing and you’d always buy us neat gifts and treats. I remember the closet full of purses and before we could go anywhere, you had to find the right purse for the right occasion. We baked cookies and you told stories. You were the most awesome grandma.
Why did you decided to leave us so early. I really wanted you to see me on my wedding day. I wanted you to meet my children, so that when I talk about my grandma, they would know who you were. But you chose not to take care of yourself. When the cancer finally consumed your entire body, you suffered a slow and painful death. The weekend before you died, was the last time we saw each other, but I won’t allow that image of you to surface.
So if you have the chance, could you please let me know, why when your life was so good, why you didn’t take care of yourself. Why you let yourself die. You robbed our family of your presence and it makes me angry that you did. And when we meet in heaven, I’d like to slap you in the face and then embrace you because I know up in heaven, you are the wonderful grandma all dressed in pink that I remember.

Love,
Robin