Three years ago today, my family lost one of the most beautiful souls this planet will ever know. Grandma Frances meant so much to all of us. She was the “family doctor”, that never followed her own advice. She always had her cup of tea, crackers with butter, something sweet now and then [wink, wink], and most of all, she had time for you. You, the daughter. You, the niece. You, the son-in-law . You, the granddaughter. And me, the grandson. She had time for everyone.
More than ever, I find myself reflecting on the day she passed away because now, more than ever, I need her. Like the saying goes, “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.” I knew my Grandma was special to me but never did I realize how vital she was to easing my troubles in this world. Not only was she the family doctor, she was the family therapist too. You could talk to Grandma about what bothered you, even if she had no clue at all what you were talking about, she’d listen. Talking to her about the same problem over and over again, she’d listen. Complaining about how life was hard and not going how you planned, she’d listen.
To this very day I believe she is still listening.
Although I cannot hear her voice anymore, or hug her frail tiny body, I talk to her. When I decide to have a cup of tea instead of a cup of coffee, I remember the first cup she made for me. When I butter a piece of bread, I think of her and her saltine crackers. When I talk with my kids, I think of her, and remember, I just need to listen. To you, my mom. To you, my dad. To you, my sisters. To you, my wife. To you, my daughter. And to you, my two sons.