Friday, February 04, 2005

Elinor Edith Crawford

My grandma just died. Less than two hours ago my grandma was alive, and now she's not. My mom called, an only child she is all alone now. I wish I could help her more, but I'm just not that kind of daughter.

My parents were taking a weekend away. The woman they pay to help care for my grandma left at 5. She said my grandma was in a good mood, chatty, and that right before she left she helped her to bed. An hour later our cousin stopped in to check on her and she had died in her sleep, in bed. I'm trying to decide if I should go up there but I don't think I want to see her body and I don't know when they are going to take her away. All I can think about is crawling into her bed and curling up under the covers. I keep trying to remember what her favorite foods are. Think about finding her recipe book and making her Christmas sweet rolls, chicken and dumplings, beef stew. I'm searching my brain for every little fact I've ever known about her. Regretting all the things I've forgotton. All the history that has gone with her. Months ago my mom and I sifted through boxes of needlework. My mom was going to ask my grandma who made each piece and write it down.

I keep thinking about the last time I was there. How little I went up to visit her.

At the time my grandma died my neighbor was knocking on my door with a hen I hadn't seen in a month. The others were eaten by possum cause my dog's getting old and his hearing is going. That hen is in a cage in my back yard. If I go to my grandma's house tonight I can't forget to set her free.

Two days ago I talked to my mom and she said my grandmother was obsessed with a plane crash that was on the news. Day and night she talked about the crash, the survivors, the dead and my mom was annoyed and amused.

Tonight my mom tells me that grandma has been dreaming of the dead for two days. Her parents, siblings, husband, best friend of 70 years. My mom told her that one day she would see them all again. She said my grandmother was surprised and pleased. She told my mom it was nice to hear she believed that, at one time she had no beliefs.

Exactly one month from today my grandma would've been 90 years old. March 4th. Some of her nieces were planning on coming up to celebrate with her.

My grandmother saved me as a child. Her love surrounded me, kept me soft at the edges. She made me french toast with brown sugar every morning. She read me Henry and Ribsy books from my mother's childhood. She was a teacher in my preschool and for a solid decade the children called her Grandma Ellie. She spent the past 15 years without my grandfather, in the care of her only child, my mother. She was polite and unbelievably kind as a younger person. With age she could be ornery.

My brother called me shortly after my mother did. He told me he doesn't believe anything happens after we die. He says he likes the idea of 'eternal rest' too much to consider anything else. He is wrong. He doesn't love this life so he doesn't want any of it to carry over. I would do anything to know where my grandmother was right now. I'm trying to think of some way to make contact. I keep thinking about going outside and lighting a lighter. Like I can flag her down with a tiny light on my front lawn. How big do you have to be to wave down the dead? Catch their attention so you can let them know you are still here, that they are missed, that you never thought this day would come, and while you are happy for them, you are beside yourself with lonliness and grief.