Sad News For a Guilty Grandson

I just received some sad news. I say sad, rather than bad, because the news has broken my heart on many levels. In some ways it is bad news, too, but mostly it’s just sad.

My grandmother’s body is shutting down. She’s awake, coherent, and from what I hear, she is ready to move on to her next assignment.

48 hours is such a short time, though, for the rest of us.

I’ve been remiss. Over the past few years, I’ve put off taking the trip to Boise to see her, even though I’ve known she was ill. My excuse has ever been: “It’s such a long drive.” My little girl, 3 years old now, has never met my grandmother, and this, more than anything, is excruciatingly regretful. Ironically, I’m now working as a truck driver, and driving several hundred miles every day is part of the job description.

And now, since I’ve only just started, I can’t even go see her to say good-bye in person. Anybody who reads this and is close by: Please tell her I’m sorry. I love you, grandma, and I’m going to miss you. I’m so very sorry that I never brought Cordelia up to meet you. I know she would have loved you, just as all of us love you.

You have always been an inspiration for me. You taught me the importance of education, of family, of communication. You were always such a good letter-writer, and I learned so much from you.

If it is really time for you to go, then with a heavy, sorrowful heart I want to tell you that I love you and I will miss you. I’m sure Grandpa and Aunt Lois are waiting to welcome you… not to mention Tony, Mary, Great Grandma and all the rest who have gone on before you. As well as the Savior himself, with his open arms to receive you.

My heart aches for my own loss, and my own regrets, but I know there will be rejoicing on the other side as you are greeted by the throngs of people who must be missing you as much as we will miss you. I certainly hope that when my time comes, you will be there to welcome me home, as well.

I hate doing this in writing. I wish I could come see you. This is the best I can do, and I know you’ve appreciated me expressing myself with pen and paper in the past, so hopefully this is as good. I need to get this out there. I need you to know that I’ve never forgotten you, I’ve just been selfishly wrapped up in things that momentarily seem important, but in retrospect are just distractions.

I won’t ask you to forgive me, because I know you already have… that is part of being a grandma, I think. Part of what makes a grandma a special kind of relative. You just automatically understand that grandchildren are often distracted and foolish, and you forgive us for it. It’s grandma magic.

I love you. I know that you have always loved me. Thank you for being my grandma. I deserved less than what I got, and will forever be grateful for the blessing that you have been to me in my life.

I won’t say good-bye. Rather: Till we meet again.

I love you. God bless you forever.

Steven

P.S. If you change your mind, and decide to get better and stick around for a bit longer, that will be okay, too. I just want to put that out there as an option. Consider it, alright?