Life as I knew it forever changed July 15, 2016. That was the day we were told the dreaded words that explained my Grandmas pain. That was the day I cried hysterically. That was the day I was officially pissed at a doctor who could have given us more time. August 1, 2016 we got a more definite answer for what we didn't want to hear. Stage 4 Endometrial Cancer. It was devastating. The next four months was a roller coaster of buying time and trying to make Grandma comfortable. In four short months her battle was over and the void opened.
It's been nine months. It seems like just yesterday. It doesn't seem real. How is it that last year at this time she was still helping watch my son. How is it last year she was Grandma the Grandma that I could count on for anything. I should have asked more questions. I should have listened more. I should have spent more time. I should have done a lot more things. But we always had time. Time was ripped away from us. It doesn't seem real.
I thought losing my Great Grandma was hard when I was 16 and it was but I think I got through because I had my parents taking care of me and my friends to keep me busy. This has been by far the hardest thing I've ever had to go through. It is hardest to try to help my son through the grieving process. He spent so much time with her and I am eternally grateful for that.
All of my childhood memories have some piece of Grandma in them. My birthday, is her birthday. She was my neighbor. She was always there to play or talk. She volunteered at my elementary school. She made most of my Halloween costumes, she attended everything I ever had an assembly or concert for, she let me have friends over late at night to swim in the pool, she let me have friends stay the night in her camper, she always had cookies, she always had popsicles, she taught me how to oil paint, she taught me about family. She helped me when I was struggling in college, she helped me when I needed things made for my wedding, she helped me get to the hospital when my son was in the NICU and I couldn't drive, she helped take care of my son when I needed someone, she watched my son once a week then twice a week then four days a week.
And then she was in pain.
I can remember being told. I can remember crying. I can remember not being able to breathe. This. was. not. happening. Not to Grandma. Not my Grandma. But it was. And it was awful.
Its was not like the commercials where you get treatment and get to go home and live a normal life. She was so sick. She was in so much pain. How could all these doctors that she had been calling and telling she was in pain not know something was wrong? How could they not see it on the scans? How could they tell us that something was abnormal but dismiss us to the next person? How can you just dismiss a patient competently telling you about pain as her being old?
I am so angry. It seems like a really bad dream. Like she is just on vacation. I have moments where I dont believe it is real and have to really stop my thoughts and remind myself it IS real.
I am thankful for the time I was given with her. Thirty-one years wasn't enough. I needed more time. I miss her with everything that I am. If I can be a quarter of the woman she was, I will be lucky. I know she wouldn't want me to be so sad but I dont know life without her. She was always a phone call away. What I would give to have her back for one more day.
