88 years old

My grandmother just celebrated her 88th birthday.

Wow.

This past Saturday, we went to see my grandmother and help her celebrate her birthday. It was bittersweet for several reasons. My grandmother has always been fiercely independent and quite the spitfire. She is as stubborn as a mule and believes that the best way to get something done is to just do it yourself. A philosophy that I myself have been known to follow.

She is da' bomb.

She practically raised me and my brother. When I was a child, I would go to her house where she ran an in-house daycare. She only had about 8 kids at the most. It was Mamaw and Dessie - my "muh-dear" - running the show. Dessie was a LARGE black lady that always had her snuff tucked in her brassiere and could smother you in a hug one minute and then pop your backside as you walked away. She was awesome.

Our days were filled with climbing trees and playing hide and seek. We watched Sesame Street at "quiet time" and ate a lot of spaghetti with buttered white bread. After all the other kids left, Papaw would come home and he and I would go swing on the porch and I would curl myself up in his huge arms and talk about the day. We would swing there until Mom or Dad would come to pick us up. Safe from the mosquitoes in the screened in porch.




Every Sunday we would go over there after church and have Sunday dinner. It was always a spread - enough to feed several families and always comfort food - roast or ham with black-eyed peas that we had put up the week before or fresh corn that we had shucked and always .... ALWAYS, white bread with butter. Papaw liked plain Holsum bread with butter on it. After dinner, we would sit practically on top of each other and watch Hee-Haw. I *still* remember several songs from that damn show. I hope to never forget. My Papaw died my freshman year of college. As a matter of fact, I was in Florida on spring break when I received the call. It was a somber ride back. Still is.

After Papaw died, Mamaw stayed in that house for awhile but it kept getting broken into. People even broke into the back porch to steal food out of the freezer. That still pisses me off! That was a GREAT house! Big, above ground with wooden floors. Four bedrooms but only one bathroom with a huge claw-foot tub. Screened in front porch and back porch. A huge back yard. I miss that house often.



When she came home one evening after work and there were 2 men standing in her living room taking whatever they liked - it was decided that she should move. She moved way the hell out past swartz area and by then I had married and moved off.

She worked until she was 80 years old and even then she reluctantly retired. She didn't want to give it up and she wouldn't have if her knees hadn't been so bad. She could barely get around and pride kept her from a walker and/or wheelchair.

She lived out in that house until about 3 years ago. She reluctantly agreed to move into an assisted living housing community but once she got there - she loved it!! They played dominoes, had pot luck suppers, played bingo and even partied until 4 am one New Year's Eve. She stayed up longer than I did!!

She LOVES my girls and they adore her. How I wish that my Papaw could've been around to see these little scamps - especially Olivia. He would've really gotten a kick out of her.

Last Christmas, Mamaw got really sick with pneumonia and had to be hospitalized. She was in there for MONTHS and has just recently been released. While she was there, she lost her place at the assisted living facility which was really a blessing in disguise because we felt as if she didn't need to be by herself. She also needs physical therapy daily to regain some of the muscle tone in her legs so therefore she is now in a nursing home.

It's so damn depressing. Even though the place is nice - it is so freaking sad. I HATE it. We go see her once a week and I'm hoping that she will get a little more mobile so she can get a day pass and I can bring her over here to spend the day with us. I gladly would've taken her in here but she would have no part of that. I know it would've been difficult for all but it just breaks my heart to know she is over there. She took care of me for so long - I want to do the same. It's heartbreaking.

So, she's 88 years old and I'm really not sure if she will see 89 and she wonders, too. She doesn't have to say it - I know she does. Guess we'll just have to take it as it comes. She knows what she means to me and I know what I mean to her. Nothing has been left unsaid and I guess that's the important part.



It sucks to get old but especially watching those we love get old.