Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Yesterday.

This was written Monday and I don't want to edit the dates...

Yesterday was my grandma Lula's birthday. Today, 17 years ago, she died.

I was 7 years old. I was old enough to understand death as far as knowing I would not see my dad's mother ever again.

On my grandmother's birthday, I remember that it was a Saturday, my mother and 2 of her sisters and I went to the hospital. I had to stay in the waiting room by myself, which I now see was a better alternative than putting me back out in the car, or trying to take me back home, especially since I was the type of child who could occupy myself without taking up much space. My grandma was in a coma in the ICU, and children weren't allowed.

I sat in the lobby and waited. Sang little songs I learned in church, thought about school. This was a big room. My grandma was just upstairs? Why can't I go? I'm a good kid, I can behave! I haven't seen my grandma in a while...

I would sit next to her while she crocheted a blanket, her plastic leg detached between us. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. She liked the houses. Soon she would nod off, and I'd reach for the remote. In the kitchen, I'd sit at the head of the table while she dropped lemons into her tea, or stirred butter into my grits...

May 5, 1991. She didn't want to miss her birthday, that was the joke. My grandma Anna said we should celebrate when someone goes back to heaven. "what? Are you happy that Grandma's dead?" I tried to explain this philosophy to my cousins; they didn't get it.

I did get to see my grandma one last time, but she was in a casket. She looked asleep. I wanted to touch her, reach over her as I had done so many other times when she was sleeping. Lay my head on her side. I wondered if she had her leg in there with her. "when you get to heaven, all your illnesses are gone. Your body is restored."

Instead of watching my grandma be lowered into the ground, I played outside in a big, South Carolina field. Probably the same one she had once run around in, in a pretty dress. My grandmother was that type, to do everything in a dress. In heaven, she can do that, because she is young, and she has both her legs.
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5 comments:

Jameil said...

Awww. sweet story, joy. i loved Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, and dresses, too. me and g-ma could've rolled together.

shani-o said...

What a nice way to remember her. This is the kind of afterlife I can get down with... you know, people thinking about you when you're gone and sharing you with others.

La said...

I think that has always been the thing that has given me comfort about death... the idea that those that we've lost are no longer confined by their worldly conditions but free to be... well, just to be.

Rashan Jamal said...

Great story. I don't know what I'm gonna do when my grandma dies.

the joy said...

jam- thanks. my grandma was the coolest.

shani- i too hope i am fondly thought of. :)

la- me too. i think my heaven will still allow me to stare up at the sky in wonder, lol.

rashan- i dont like to think about what my life will be like when my mema anna dies...