Grandma Carol
Everyone grieves differently and all ways are okay. I have found sharing my experiences to be a very helpful part of my grieving process. TL;DR, my grandma transitioned from her physical body on May 13 and life will be so different without her.
Grandma and Grandpa have both had a rough year medically. In February I took a last-minute flight to Minnesota (thanks, cousin!) because we weren't sure whether or not Grandma was going to make it out of the ICU. I asked someone to bring the photobook from their 60th wedding anniversary to the hospital. She had been pretty minimally responsive up until that point. I sat with her and started paging through an album. She reached out and started turning the pages herself! It was pretty incredible. We paged through the book multiple times. I was so happy. She was so resilient and surprised everyone by how much she improved. I was happy going home knowing it wasn't our final goodbye.
On May 13, we knew my grandma didn't have much time left. By evening I was surprised I hadn't heard any updates and felt a strong urge to check in. I've been really intrigued about communicating mind to mind since listening to the Telepathy Tapes podcast, so in my mind I read her what I wrote and told her over the phone the night before. I’d like to think this was helpful for her but will never know for sure. Regardless, I’m glad I listened to my intuition.
I tried calling my mom but it went straight to voicemail. I called my uncle and talked to him for a few minutes and then called my mom again. He was heading back to be with Grandma shortly. My mom had just left Grandma. We talked for a few minutes and then she had to go because my uncle was calling. My grandma had transitioned right after my mom left. It seems like she waited until she was left alone. I can totally see her wanting to do that. She had four kids and would have wanted to be fair.
Ten days later I had a dream within a dream. I saw Grandma and Aunt Grace and they both looked so good! Grandma’s eyes were wide and open. I hugged her and she said, “I wish I could stay.” I told her, “I know you have to go.”
My grandma and grandpa were married for 68 years. They met before they were old enough to drive a car in Northern Minnesota. I can’t even begin to imagine what that would be like, but they were perfect for each other. It’s going to be so hard for Grandpa without her.
I grew up living about 5 miles away from my grandparents and they came to many of our sporting events (and joined us for DQ after the games!). I have great memories of biking to visit them. They lived in the same one-level house for about 50 years before their huge yard was zoned commercial and they were forced to move. They always had a huge garden and I remember seeing many deer in their yard. My brother and I used to love to ride on the back of their 4 wheelers through the swampy parts in the spring. I recently found a picture of me sitting in a milk crate on the back of one!
As I got older, I found their place a little scary at night. They lived just before the end of a dead-end road where a gun club was situated. Hearing gunshots constantly was the norm. I remember in college I was up late working on a paper for a course I took on psychopaths and serial killers and out the front window I kept seeing headlights. Their driveway was pretty long and on the other side of the road was a patch of forest. People used to joy ride with jeeps and 4 wheelers in the forest and sometimes late at night. I remember one of the vehicles crept up the driveway that night and I was terrified. I hid from the windows and eventually they went away.
I was raised Catholic and we went to church most weeks with my grandparents. I remember the donut & coffee reception after church ended and Sunday meals at Pizza Hut, Old Country Buffet, or Ponderosa with my parents and grandparents.
My grandma loved to cook and bake. I have fond memories of all of her treats - cinnamon rolls with the best homemade frosting, angel food cake for my grandpa’s birthday every year, banana bread, cookies and pies. I liked how finely she chopped vegetables for salads, and I was grateful that as I slowly stopped eating gluten and animal products she would let me take out some of the 4th of July potato salad fixings before she added mayo & egg. Burnt toast will forever remind me of her - she preferred it that way! She loved making pancake breakfasts for everyone at the lake each summer. The past decade I didn’t enjoy her treats as often because of my dietary changes and I felt bad because I know how much she loved to feed people.
I remember Grandma went through a period of time where she regularly worked out at a Curves gym. It is fun thinking about her being excited about that, especially knowing how much she hated physical therapy as she aged.
Every 4th of July our family gathers at my grandparents’ slice of land on a lake in Minnesota. I’m honestly surprised that the “cabin” is still standing - but most everyone has their own travel trailers, campers, or RVs these days for lodging. The size of the group has fluctuated a lot as families have grown and changed over the years, and I think at most we had around 30-40 people visit for the big 4th of July potluck.
My grandma loved being on or near the water - she got so giddy when they bought jet skis many years ago. Even last summer I got a picture of her kayaking in the bay. She used to ski, swim, sit on a lounger on the beach and read a book, or go fishing. On rainy days I loved playing Canasta with her. Some of the most competitive games I remember involved her and my Aunt Grace. My mom is pretty good at Canasta too - but she’s not nearly as competitive as my grandma and her sister were.
My parents and I (and sometimes my brother) also enjoyed many camping trips with my grandparents up to the North Shore of Lake Superior in Minnesota. When in Grand Marais, we always had to go to Sven & Ole’s for pizza and Ben Franklin for shopping. They even joined us on a trip out to Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore in the UP of Michigan awhile back.
My Grandma was crafty and loved to crochet and create birthday and holiday cards with her friends. She had a group of friends that met regularly throughout the years for brunch. It hasn’t sunk in yet that I won’t ever get another one of those handmade cards. Thankfully I kept most of them. I loved their vintage coca cola pitcher and glass set that we used for holidays. I think she got those by spending a certain amount as a Holiday cashier before it became Gander Mountain.
She loved jewelry and she spent quite a bit of time in Arizona with some of her sisters when my Grandpa went hunting. She started gifting me Native American silver jewelry when I was pretty young, and can confidently say this ignited my interest in Native American culture. My favorite necklace is a pendant I got from her and I wear it at least once a week. I still have a couple of pendants with light turquoise stones from her that don’t have matching earrings, and I need to track some down at some point.
A few years ago she gave me some broken Native American silver jewelry because I told her I would get it fixed some day. Maybe now that she’s gone it will help me figure out a way to get it done. I got an estimate from one person and it was going to cost the same as buying brand new custom pieces which was out of reach. Every time I wear a piece of jewelry I got from her I will think of her. She even quietly gifted me a very special necklace that came from her sister Fern when she died. I didn’t know her well, but I always had a strong spiritual connection to her.
Since moving to St. Louis in 2015 I haven’t spent as much time with my grandparents. In 2019 they drove to visit me in St. Louis for Easter, and I am so grateful they were able to visit. I believe they were 81 at the time, and the drive into St. Louis was a bit overwhelming for them. We went to the Arch and the Cathedral Basilica. They were enthralled by all of the mosaics.
As the years progressed I had a harder time saying goodbye every time I saw them, because I only saw them twice a year. Leaving the cabin on 4th of July weekend typically ends with me crying on my way down the dirt road. On one of my last visits, I helped organize my grandparents' pantry. I don’t know why I didn’t do that more frequently, but I wish I had.
My grandma called me “Dolly” (dah-lee) or Melis (ma-liss). I like the nickname Melis and only a few people call me that. Now that I think about it, it’s mostly my mom and grandma. Grandma had a few embarrassing stories about me that she would tell over and over again and now that I know she can’t tell them anymore I wish I could hear them one more time so I could record them. Why didn’t I get more videos of her? She would sometimes lean over and tell me “secrets.” She loved talking about her family’s ancestry. I feel bad now that I didn’t connect to some of those stories because I’m adopted and therefore they weren’t stories about my lineage. I hope someone wrote some of it down.
She was the Matriarch of a branch of my family and everything will be different without her. At Thanksgiving last year I was sitting behind my grandparents after the meal and she was just observing all of the lively conversations. All of her kids were there, which doesn’t happen often since one lives out of state. She gave my grandpa a little squeeze and said, “We started this.” It was so sweet.
