Granny Love

by mereintention

This woman is everywhere. I can’t shake her. She’s been gone for two years.

On the drive to Oklahoma to visit Dad before the brain surgery, I made a few phone calls to some friends. I really, really just wanted to call my Granny and talk to her about the horrible, terrible fucking situation. I knew she would listen and have real, true sympathy and empathy for me and for him and just listen and get it. She never spoke ill of my father to me. Never ever. She often asked me to tell him hello for her. Granny is my dad’s ex-mother-in-law, my mother’s mom. She and Dad hadn’t seen or spoken to one another in a number of years before she passed.

In the hospital, the day before the surgery, I could not for the life of me shake the sense that Granny was there. Anytime I would walk out of his room to go grab another cup of coffee or to explore the hospital for a little bit, her presence was strong. When I was in his room, it’s like she was sitting quietly on the couch with us. This made me feel good – but strange.

The day Dad had surgery, I almost went crazy with how real I could feel Granny. I didn’t say anything to anyone.

A week or so ago, I finally got the courage to ask Dad if he felt her or saw her while at the hospital or during surgery. He thought about it for a minute and said, “No, I don’t recall anything like that. Why?” So I told him about what I had felt while at the hospital. How whenever I left his room it was like she was walking down the hall just behind me, over my shoulder. I actually giggled out loud a couple of times as I would peek over my shoulder.

This was the same hospital that Granny had had radiation treatments and where her doctors were.

I was not in Oklahoma when Granny died. I didn’t feel it necessary to be. I didn’t experience what the rest of my family did in the situation. I don’t know the last time she was at the hospital before she passed from this world, but I can tell you this:
Granny left a huge part of herself at the hospital. A good part of her healthy self. The part that was ready to take care of me and was waiting for me. To perfectly hang out with me. To sit with me. I wasn’t alone even when I was walking the halls by myself.