You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away
The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke dear, I was mistaken
And I hung my head and cried
My Gram was and is an amazing woman. She was a second mom to me, my sister, and my brother. Meimei and I loved to play and to be at her house; we would beg Mom to let us stay the night. She always made us pancakes for dinner and cookies for breakfast (Cookie Crisp got nuthin’ on real cookies). We were lucky, we grew up about ten minutes from her and spent so much time at her house, it seemed to be an extension of ours. She picked us up from school sometimes and most days Mom would take us there afterwards for cookies and milk (we like cookies).
She called me Princess (I was her first grandbaby) and I called her Garbo, thinking that was her name. My sister was her Angel and my little brother was her Little Peanut. She loved us with a fierce and tender love. Meimei and I were her only girl grandbabies. On our birthdays every year, she would take us out for lunch and then we would pick out a few birthday presents. It was awesome. We usually went to Toys’r’us (we moved out here right before I turned ten). Upon reflection, its weird that I never went crazy and asked for everything. Meimei chose a Gameboy one year and I think one year I was really into Polly Pocket and Barbie (Teresa though, never Barbie. She was the bad barbie). Moving out here was difficult. We said goodbye to Gram for the first time, before we started our purgatory drive to California. I remember her face, tears awash in her blue blue eyes, and I will never forget. I cried like the nine year old I was. I missed her then and I miss her now.
I wish so many things. I wish that I had asked her about her life, that I knew more about her family. I wish she was in the bleachers for my high school graduation. I wish she was in the JCP when I walked across the stage and shook Dr. Lyon’s hand. I wish I could call her and talk to her, or better yet, I wish I could fly into her home, into her arms.
She died from ALS my Junior year of high school, in 2006. I could tell you all about what that is and what it’s like. I’m not going to because: screw ALS; it’s a terrible disease and it’s a blip in my Gram’s life. She died less then a year after the diagnosis. I remember the pain of watching…of knowing, of praying, of sobbing, of praying, of fearing, of praying, of praying. Oh Lord, mercy. I used to pray every night that God would let us share muscles, share strength and health of body until there was a cure. I prayed and I cried myself to sleep most nights.
She died before I could really learn who she was before she was my super Gram. The weight of that huge gap in knowing nearly sends me into a panic attack every time I think on it. I’m caught in this weird in between place. I love my Gram as a child loves: purely with confidence. Still, I love my Gram as an adult loves: passionately with understanding. It’s been seven years today; and I can still feel this sharp stab in my heart that takes my breath away. The pain of this physical separation becomes acute and focused. A few years ago, I really struggled. For my college graduation I wanted Gram, I wanted my Garbo. I had my family, Grandma B and a few of my aunts. I was in this epic battle between what was real and able to be, and what I wanted more than any temporal good. I was wrestling angels and it wasn’t looking good. I told Dad. He is her son and he understood. He hugged me and told me she would be there, that she would see, that she knew and was proud of me. It was a small consolation. How I still wish I saw her smiling (in all likelihood dabbing her eyes) from the seats!
I love that she would call us her little pumpkins. I love that she would call and we would talk for hours. I love that she called me ‘princess.’ I love that she thought I was beautiful and lovable. I love that she mixed the cookie dough by hand, that she ate ketchup with noodles (Meimei does too). I love that she made my sister and I pink Christmas Story bunny costumes and my brother a carrot, that she was enchanted by Asia (我也是).
As I understand it we are the Communion of Saints, a part of the Body of Christ. I know one day, we will be together again and we will worship our Lord together. Until then, I hope and place my trust in Him. Phil 4:4-9
I love you Garbo, this you Shirley know.
Letters from Wiscalia 