My grandma came to live with us shortly before I turned 8. She had been diagnosed with a terminal form of cancer, had surgery to help prolong her life, and no longer could live in her house, on her own.
Because I was so young, I didn’t know the truth behind her condition. Just that she was sick and my mom was going to take care of her.
My mom is an only child. My grandfather passed away nearly 2 years before I was born, so when my grandma was dying, my mom carried that burden alone.
We had a spare room on the main floor of our house, which my brother and I used as our “play room”. In preparation for my grandma’s arrival, my parents transformed that tiny room into one that accommodated the needs of a terminal cancer patient.
At the beginning of her stay, my grandma was rarely in her room during the day. School was in session, so my brother and I only really saw her at night and on the weekends, but I remember her spending time in the family room, talking with my mom and watching TV.
As time passed, I noticed she was weaker. I have one distinct memory of her lying on the couch in our family room while I sat on the floor, in front of the television. My mom had gone upstairs and my grandma was very uncomfortable with how she was positioned. She called me over to her and asked if I could help scoot her up to a higher spot on the arm rest of the couch.
I dug my 8 year old arms under her chest and locked them around her back. Then I steadied myself for some heavy lifting.
I was shocked at how easily she moved.
* * * * *
We had a veggie garden in our backyard that my mom planted and tended each summer. Our favorites to grow were the tomatoes. Oh, there is nothing more scrumptious than eating slices of a juicy, salted tomato, still warm from the sun’s rays!
My mom used to make me tomato salads with the tomatoes grown in our backyard. Sharing a bowl of tomato salad with some crusty Italian bread is a tradition she always enjoyed with her mom, too.
As my grandma grew weaker, spring was changing into summer. My mom had her garden started, and one warm spring day, I stood at the back door looking out onto the garden. My grandma walked up and stood next to me, both of us enjoying the fresh air coming in through the screen.
I don’t remember what we were talking about – or if we were talking at all – but I will never forget the precise moment in time when my grandma, staring out at the yard, said to me, “I won’t be here to enjoy the tomatoes.”
Her words cut my 8 year old self to the core.
I stood there for a few moments, unable to move or speak or breath.
I calmly turned around and walked through the kitchen, climbed the stairs, and hid in my room to cry. I emerged a short while later, never uttering even a word of our conversation to my mother.
My grandma died that summer, right after school let out.
She never did get to see the tomatoes ripen.
Four generations together on my 3rd birthday. I'm sitting with my grandma.
Prompt 1.) A lecture you still remember.
[...] I read Liz’s post for today and it changed everything I was going to be writing about. It was almost as if I needed [...]
What a moving story, Liz. It sounds like you have some beautiful memories of your grandmother to share with your children.
This was so beautiful.
Promise me you’ll send it in to BlogHer.
It is beautiful, and I don’t think I’ve ever read anything quite as lovely.
Could be b/c I”m partial to gramma’s, but the setting of those final words was so perfectly tuned in: first, being able to lift her so easily, and then on to the future, with the garden devoid of her.
How you remember.
Just thinking about that part in this post, and my eyes fill with tears again.
It’s beautiful.
P.S> sorry, if I’m a screw up, but have you sent this in to In These Small Moments? It’s gorgeous.
Exquisitely written. I didn’t grow up with a grandma, but this post still spoke to me. Brava!
Wow. What a powerful memory. Thank you so much for sharing it. Thank you for also reminding me to hold on to the special moments that I remember with my grandmothers.
Such a heart-wrenching story! It’s amazing how clearly we remember certain events in our lives. Those tomatoes are a southern delicacy, at least in my family they are, LOL!
What a beautiful post. My grandmother, who just turned 81 was just diagnosed with cancer last week. I am very lucky that she has been around for all of my life so far.
That’s so sad. I’m very close to my grandparents, my grandfather has said things like that to me. It’s heartbreaking every.single.time.
Beautiful post Liz!
Liz, this is heartbreaking. I’m so sad you had to experience death so close to you so early in your life. Glad that you told this story…it was very touching.
What a beautifully written post. It made me tear up!
I love when you write pieces like this.. The ones that show a more vulnerable side. I’m sitting here, crying for the 8 year old Liz. And for the younger version of me that knows exactly how you felt when I knew I would lose a grandparent.
I was a little older at 12, but those last few months will stick with me for the rest of my life. With each birth of my children and my wedding, I’ve wondered if she was looking down on me.
And Maddie is the spitting image of the little you..
Lovely post, Liz. We made wonderful tomato salads with our tomatoes and my Grandma’s tomatoes as well!
That’s an amazing memory! I hope you have that priceless picture framed…because it’s beautiful. I’m sure that was a scary moment in your 8 year old little mind. I can’t imagine losing my grandma so early in my life.
You told this story beautifully. I have a book that I read with my boys. It’s about a native american family. The grandmother lives with them and weaves rugs. She says she will be finished with her life once the rug is done. The granddaughter unravels it every night after everyone goes to bed. It breaks my heart every time I read it. Your real life story really reminds me of that book.
Losing people we love it hard.
And you were a cutie patootie!
Great memory, Liz. I’m sure your grandma watches over you every second!
Simply heartbreaking. And I love the family photo.
Ok, that was absolutely beautiful but once I saw the picture all I could think was: Your daughter looks exactly like you at that age!!!
Oh Liz! I can’t imagine and you wrote about it so beautifully.
And wow do your girls look just like you!
Love this picture, Liz. Love, love, love. You look just like your mom and your grandmothers are beautiful.
This brought me to tears Liz. Beautiful story and it’s special you have such clear memories of your grandma. xoxo
What a touching story. Difficult time for an 8 year old to experience. But at least you got to spend that extra time with your grandma. Thanks for sharing.
Loved this. I’m sure that was hard for you when you were a little girl. I’m glad you have good memories with her too though… xo
Lovely Liz. Carrying on her memory is the best tribute you can pay.
What a memory Liz. You tell it beautifully and with love. This brought tears to my eyes. XO
And oh my, your daughters are mini replicas of you
Ignoring your blog boycott day to catch on this amazing piece, hope you’ll forgive me.
Liz this was gorgeous, I had tears in my eyes but also a smile for the memories you did get to share with your grandma. This kind of writing is a whole new side of you, and I can’t wait to see more of it. Truly lovely.
What a beautiful post, Liz. Incredible writing, I could picture the whole story before seeing the picture. My Nana lived to 91. She was incredible, and I still miss her a lot. It’s amazing what an impact a grandparent can make.
So beautiful. I was 38 when I lost my gramma and it hurt me deeply. That relationship is so beautiful.
xoxo
Oh, this is just so beautiful. Makes me think back on my summers with my grandmother in Germany and how even when I was young, I would often ask myself it it would be the last one with her.
Hold on to these memories always.
That photograph is lovely. *HUGS*
I have tears in my eyes. what a wonderful post and memory of your grandma. my daughter is just 8 and I can’t imagine her carrying that burden of knowledge alone.
I’m very late in commenting on this, but it’s so very touching. I remarked to the Twitterverse yesterday that talking on the phone to my grandma, who called to wish her great grandbaby a happy birthday, just isn’t the same anymore. I’m lucky to still have all 4 grandparents, but I know it won’t last. I’m especially close to my mom’s parents, and I don’t know what I will do when they aren’t here anymore.
This was very touching. Excuse me, I have something in my eye. *sniff*
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