Dear Daddy,
Tomorrow is New Years Eve, which means that a full year has come and gone and I have not seen you. Hard to believe that the last conversation we had was in 2008 and the last time I saw you was on the way back from my wedding in Cuba.
Christmas has come and gone, too, and this was another "floaty" one. Anybody who has not lost somebody so close to them may not fully comprehend what I mean when I say "floaty", and even some of those who have may not understand. But it is a word that for me encompasses a lot of what I've felt since you've gone.
This year Isaac was more excitable and Andrew (who is a little YOU) was around too. Those two gave us the gift of little moments of joy. It definitely has not been possible to ignore the two huge gaping holes in our circle left by the absence of you and nanny, but we know you're with us and I believe you're together. Any solace comes from reminding myself of that.
Last Christmas day we went to the "memory garden" to visit you and then headed right to the hospital to be with nanny. This Christmas we went to the memory garden and were able to avoid the hospital. Knowing that the both of you, two people who are such an integral part of my world, are not in any way suffering and are at peace is what gives me peace. Not to say that I've completely come to terms with all this because that is the furthest thing from the truth, but there are glimmers of hope.
We all miss you both so much. It's in the little things and the big things. There are so many things I want you to know and I am constantly yearning to have you both here with me. It is an indescribable sorrow to lose people you love so deeply and who have made it clear that they also love you. I feel in a way that you two are lucky to have escaped from this earth so that you may never know that kind of sorrow again yourselves. You will never have to lose me as I have lost you.
Neither of you will ever be forgotten. Your memory will live on in me and in others as long as we are still on the earth. And I cannot wait to see you again. Facing the inevitability of death has become a lot less scary for me.
I'm not sure how they do Christmas in Heaven but I hope you and all of the others we know and love who have gone before had the most amazing turkey dinner ever. Selfishly, I would give anything to have you both back. I would love to be that kid again who wakes up on Christmas morning not having to think about how her father and grandmother (who was actually more like a second mother, really) are not with her anymore. I miss the magic and the reality of life and death has hit me so hard, so soon. I am sure though, that if we can go through this year and not have anything drastic happen to us, next Christmas will be just a little bit more magical.
You are always on our minds and in our hearts.
Love you both barrels and barrels of nippers eyebrows,
Laura XOXO
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Merry Christmas
Hello Internetland.
I hope you have the merriest, happiest, loveliest Christmas you have ever had to date.
Love & Peace,
Laura XO
I hope you have the merriest, happiest, loveliest Christmas you have ever had to date.
Love & Peace,
Laura XO
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Nanny
Rumour has it that I'm the world's worst blogger.
If you count the thoughts swirling around in my head as rumours, that is.
The truth is, I haven't felt up to writing.
In my last post I mentioned how I thought this Christmas should certainly be better than the last. And I think that still stands. But, since that last post I lost yet another one of the most important people in my life, and I do not say that lightly. On December 1, my other grandmother left this cruel earth and went to Heaven.
I have never known life without this woman. To call her a grandmother even seems like an understatement. She was so much more than that to me - more like another parent. She was the strongest, most beautiful and intelligent person with this incredible stamina and unwavering loyalty. I always knew that if anybody was going to be in my corner, it was her.
Her and I had this extremely close bond. I could attempt to explain the depth of that bond, but I would surely fall short. There is just far too much to say. Her significance in my life runs too deep. Mere words cannot even begin to describe how much I loved and respect her... how much I continue to do so.
Really, I lost her a year ago. Not long after Daddy passed away, "Nanny" (as I always called her) suffered a massive stroke. Since then she had been lying in a bed, the left side of her body paralyzed. She was trapped inside of her own body with no way to communicate. That was painful to watch. So many times I would look at her and just know she was uncomfortable, but not know how to help her because she couldn't communicate. She was always an extremely independent lady. She had to be. I knew that this new reality was not a way of life she wanted for herself. Not that anybody would want that reality for themselves - but, well, you'd just have to know her to understand.
She wasn't absent during this past year, though. She was still there. When I'd go to see her she would cry and smile and reach out for my hand. She lost a lot, but never the ability to recognize people and to show us how much she loved us.
Selfishly, I am devastated that she is no longer present with me here. In my mind I had her up on a pedestal that would give the Queen a run for her money. Without her my already incomplete life feels even more incomplete. She is the matriarch of our entire family - the glue that has brought and held us all together.
Unselfishly, I feel relieved. For her. I believe in afterlife - I have to. I have to believe that Daddy welcomed her into Heaven with open arms and that they are up there together eating "cooked dinner," laughing, smiling - being healthy and happy. A woman who has faced so much adversity in her life can now find peace at last.
And while the selfish part of me often takes over, when I remind myself that she's with Uncle Jamie (her son), Nanny Palmer, and Daddy - possibly even my cat Oreo and all the other pets I had in previous years (let everything that has breath....) the whole thing feels much more bearable.
That's why I say that this Christmas, despite the events that have taken place in recent weeks, should be better than the last. This Christmas I won't have to watch her suffer.
On December 4, 2009, I stood on Daddy's grave and watched them bury my other hero(ine) right next to him.
I know death is inevitable, but I truly hope for the sake of my family and myself that it will leave us alone for a good, long while.
Love you Nanny.
XO
If you count the thoughts swirling around in my head as rumours, that is.
The truth is, I haven't felt up to writing.
In my last post I mentioned how I thought this Christmas should certainly be better than the last. And I think that still stands. But, since that last post I lost yet another one of the most important people in my life, and I do not say that lightly. On December 1, my other grandmother left this cruel earth and went to Heaven.
I have never known life without this woman. To call her a grandmother even seems like an understatement. She was so much more than that to me - more like another parent. She was the strongest, most beautiful and intelligent person with this incredible stamina and unwavering loyalty. I always knew that if anybody was going to be in my corner, it was her.
Her and I had this extremely close bond. I could attempt to explain the depth of that bond, but I would surely fall short. There is just far too much to say. Her significance in my life runs too deep. Mere words cannot even begin to describe how much I loved and respect her... how much I continue to do so.
Really, I lost her a year ago. Not long after Daddy passed away, "Nanny" (as I always called her) suffered a massive stroke. Since then she had been lying in a bed, the left side of her body paralyzed. She was trapped inside of her own body with no way to communicate. That was painful to watch. So many times I would look at her and just know she was uncomfortable, but not know how to help her because she couldn't communicate. She was always an extremely independent lady. She had to be. I knew that this new reality was not a way of life she wanted for herself. Not that anybody would want that reality for themselves - but, well, you'd just have to know her to understand.
She wasn't absent during this past year, though. She was still there. When I'd go to see her she would cry and smile and reach out for my hand. She lost a lot, but never the ability to recognize people and to show us how much she loved us.
Selfishly, I am devastated that she is no longer present with me here. In my mind I had her up on a pedestal that would give the Queen a run for her money. Without her my already incomplete life feels even more incomplete. She is the matriarch of our entire family - the glue that has brought and held us all together.
Unselfishly, I feel relieved. For her. I believe in afterlife - I have to. I have to believe that Daddy welcomed her into Heaven with open arms and that they are up there together eating "cooked dinner," laughing, smiling - being healthy and happy. A woman who has faced so much adversity in her life can now find peace at last.
And while the selfish part of me often takes over, when I remind myself that she's with Uncle Jamie (her son), Nanny Palmer, and Daddy - possibly even my cat Oreo and all the other pets I had in previous years (let everything that has breath....) the whole thing feels much more bearable.
That's why I say that this Christmas, despite the events that have taken place in recent weeks, should be better than the last. This Christmas I won't have to watch her suffer.
On December 4, 2009, I stood on Daddy's grave and watched them bury my other hero(ine) right next to him.
I know death is inevitable, but I truly hope for the sake of my family and myself that it will leave us alone for a good, long while.
Love you Nanny.
XO
Thursday, December 10, 2009
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