Treatment Day 15 : To My Granny

This morning at 3 AM my granny passed away in her sleep. Her daughter was by her side and my dad just a room away. She died with dignity and is in a better place now. I can't thank all of you enough for the comments, calls, messages and support-you all should have a blog you're very good with words!

So I had written this for her about two weeks ago, and I filmed it just so she could see me too. It made my dad cry, my aunts appreciated it, my mom cried too and Granny thought it was so thoughtful.

 This is quite a personal post so here it goes.

Dear Granny,

There are so many things I want to tell you, and there's no time like the present right? So here it goes. Just so you know, like most of my thoughts, there's no order, rhyme or reason to these memories I'm just writing and reading whatever pops into my head first.

I love the name "Granny." I think it is what I want my grandkids to call me, if I ever have any of them that is.

When I think of your house, 3005 Banks Road—I memorized that much of it—I will always remember sitting on your front porch and feeling like we were special for doing so. No one ever seemed to use the front door. I remember eating popsicles with Steven and Beca on the front steps, specifically red ones.

I remember at the end of every walk that the beginning of your hill signified it was time to run. As soon as we spotted the house we'd start our countdown then race to the mailbox. I'd always lose.

I might have been a brat at the time, but I love the fact that we always went on walks. I liked everything from leashing up the pup to giving them a treat at the end. I love all the different kinds of houses in Fox Trot. However, I remember thinking you Floridians had weird grass. I began to correlate the feeling of being home with katydids and Spanish moss and the smell of humidity from those walks.

I adore your accent and how you look when you laugh, your face kind of scrunches. From my most recent visit I came to know you much better and enjoyed your sense of humor and easygoing personality. Tia's as well.

I always stared at the dog picture in the bathroom. I think I have the thing memorized. I loved the bamboo wallpaper in there too and the smell. Your house has very distinctive smells. Not smelly smells but good smells.

Granddad did too. I picture him lounging out at the pool all bronzed and bare, his chest hair white and his gold chain glinting in the sun. He always wore polos—or at least I think he did. I remember when he yelled at me for eating pudding weird—I probably deserved it.

Your room and bathroom always had nostalgia to it. Whenever I think of it my mind, even in my old age, I'm taken back to the fantasy, fairytale world I created with the help of your room and items in it. Flashes of fancy silver accessories on your dresser and your huge closet plus your perfume collection come into my head—specifically Chanel No.5. Oh and the pink pouf that I would use even though I wasn't supposed to, forgive me, I just wanted to pretend I was fancy and rich.

You make THE BEST sandwiches. I can picture the cousins all sitting together still dripping from the pool each eating a sandwich with a side of Lays. I don't know what you did to make those so darn good but you did it well.

I love the face you make when you're being sarcastic. I love that you say "bum" and "mum".

I love how active you've always been as well as social. I love that you carry yourself with grace and humility.

I always adored how you wore a nightgown around or is it a robe? I liked how it was a deep, rich green and that it was velvet. I loved how you and Granddad had your own chairs by the fire. How you always had animals.

Do you remember when I stepped in the ant hill when we were testing out dogs? I sure do haha I plunged my foot into the pool and it was COVERED in ants.

That pool brought me such joy. Diving for those blasted yellow eggs with lizards in them. Pretending I was Ariel. Diving off the board. Slipping down multiple slides into the pool.

Cleaning the pool with the net as well as the drain and finding frogs in there.

I had some hard times there too. I got my period there. I had one of my first freak outs about my weight when I was 12. And I started getting help for my eating disorder because of what happened when I visited you last.

I remember you reading Misty of Chincoteague to me. I remember doing countless puzzles.

I remember being so proud that our hands looked alike. That someone so clumsy and awkward as myself could slightly resemble you.

My last visit there was so much fun because I got to know you for you. I got to see your humor, that you indulge in dessert and feel more like family even though we are so far away.

I remember watching thunderstorms from your living room. Giving the dog ice cubes. Staring at the grandfather clock. Jumping on my bed and losing my tooth. But most importantly I remember feeling at home when I came to your house, like I belonged somewhere and I knew the moment I stepped foot inside your door I was loved.

You taught me the Lord's Prayer and every Sunday when I say it I'm so proud to finally have memorized it.

I love you with all my heart and then some Granny,

Kristin