Birthdays

Today, my grandma would have been 93 years old....or 95 if you take what she put on her form when she applied to work for the federal government when she wasn't 21 and needed to be.  ;)  And it's two days from when she died.  Eight years ago.  Wow.  There are times that it is like yesterday that I sat in that room that night. Waiting.  Knowing she was leaving.  Realizing that she really was going to die without telling me that she didn't despise me as much as she had said at the end.  How sad.  For her.  Sometimes I wonder if she got to those last moments when she couldn't communicate anymore and had that realization.  It's ok now.  I know she loved me as best as she could.  Because I was a constant, painful reminder to her of my mother who died when I was five.  A person she loved with her whole heart.  Who was stylish and coordinated while I was not.  But now,  being a mom, I know that she just simply could never let go of the grief that she and my mom were not getting along when my mom died.  And that's harsh.  And painful beyond understanding.  I understand more.  And though I wish she could have gone on and seen me for who I was, simply understanding has allowed healing.
Happy birthday grandma.
grace.