never trust your own grandma

Hi . I thought you might’ve heard of me maybe. Not ghosting you u know but my cow ate my homework…..

I hope you’re enjoying those lovely days of spring bringing hope for the good & allergies for the bad :)))

I know you’re sneezing rn so how about we talk this weekend.

Truth is, I’ve been driving South to say goodbye to my grandma. Granny’s just turned 90 and decided that this Friday would be a great day to make good on her wish of kicking the bucket before grandpa.

(He’s 89 ¾ and has been “trying to catch up with her all his life.”)

So granny usually gets what she wants…

But lets back up a sec.

Born in 1935, my grandparents have lived it all:

• Grandpa flees the war at age 10 with his family, ending up in the basement of a house next to grandma's - he’s herding sheep & milking cows for a litre of milk/day to get his youngest brother through the winter

• Grandma & grandpa go to school together. Granny admits she kinda likes the standoffish fugitive boy and gives into his attempts to impress her…. eventually

• They get married early - and have their first child at 19

• Grandpa studies & works at the same time, then builds the family home with his own hands

• Granny raises 6 kids, sews & stitches their clothes trying to make ends meet with money they don’t have

• Grandpa engineers roads & bridges, then goes into politics (acquiring a remarkable ability to hold speeches that never end)

• Out of the 6 children, 1 gets lost in drugs (almost breaking granny)

• To this day, they live in their house in the village, complementing each others strengths (grandpa talking & granny dozing off)

So there we are, a hilarious amount of children & grandchildren all choked up and keeping busy around the family house, even grandpa blinking and wiping his eyes, trying to talk his way around the obvious…

“You’re growing your wings.”

Grandpa is sitting next to granny’s bed, holding her hand. She looks frail, her eyes are closed. Both him and me are fighting back the tears.

Not granny.

“How long is this going to take?”

She asks and opens her eyes.

God bless dementia.

While grandpa loses himself in lengthy explanations straying further and further away from the point, I look at her. She doesn’t get half of his words, but…

She doesn’t care.

She looks peaceful.

My aunts, uncle & cousins take turns sitting next to her. Holding her hand. Reminding her she’s the reason we’re here - all of us.

Everyone’s heartbroken…

Except granny.

She listens to grandpa reading the prayer of the day. She sings old songs with her twin sister. She remembers moments from her life.

She’s actually happy.

When she spots me crying, she smiles and cheerfully recites: “We’ll see each other again.” (along with some bible stuff i don’t catch)

Cheerful, really?

Well.

She got what she wanted. She’s home. She got her family around her.

Pretty good deal but…

Why am I telling you this?

There’s stuff that’s important in life, and stuff that isn’t.

It doesn’t matter what you do. Or what goal you chase. Or the bridges you may or may not build.

Granny doesn’t remember the things she’s achieved.

She remembers who she did them with.

Stop obsessing over dumb shit.

Do stuff that matters.

xx Lessa

PS Granny’s decided to not grow her wings just yet. She thoroughly enjoys keeping us on our toes :)