in summer of 2008, my grandmother, who i always called "Mimi" passed away within 12 days after going in for an appointment because she was feeling under the weather, only to find out that she had an extremely aggressive form of cancer that stole her away from us in a matter of less than two weeks.
death was not kind to her. i remember seeing her in the hospital with all of those tubes and wires on her and she was more than capable of talking and had her normal "don't you dare pity me" look on and was just as funny and feisty as ever.
the next time i recall seeing Mimi was in hospice, where she could barely move, barely talk, to anyone. she struggled to get the words "i love you" out to my sister and i when we left for what i didn't realize would be the last time i would ever hear those words escape her lips, and the last time i would see her when she still had life in her eyes before the funeral home.
i thought she was going to get better, almost for the shear fact that everything happened so fast that i didn't think it would be possible for her to go away so quickly. of course i was absolutely wrong and she was gone before i knew what was happening. she passed away when i was at the girl i was dating at the times house for the weekend. my mom called me and let me know the news and i shed a few tears, but other than that i thought i was doing just fine with the loss.
i got home whenever i did and went with my mom to my grandfather (Papa's) house the next day to see him. i was sort of nervous because i didn't know if he was going to be super sad and then i wasn't going to be. but my mom and i got there and the second he opened the door instead of my little grandmother, I burst into a fit of tears like a dam that just exploded and all the water was rushing out in a fury of sadness.
i had no idea that i would react this way until i saw my Papa, and until i did NOT see my Mimi. even writing this now i have watery eyes in the middle of the student union seeing her so much.
this was the first death in the family of someone i had pretty regular contact with, and the first time i could see the whole effects of death at takes taking the air out of the very room we were sitting in. it seemed that no one had time to process this event--it all just happened so damn fast.
almost three years have gone by now since she passed away, and while my family seems to have recovered, my Papa has never been the same. he never stays late after family dinners anymore, he doesn't joke nearly as much, i always got this vibe of sadness when i am around him. sadness that can not be filled by anyone other than the women he loved so so so much.
to me, that is amazing. to see that my Papa loved Mimi so much that literally when she died, a part of Papa died to. what an amazing kind of love. i wish i knew off hand how long they were together, but i know it was a really, really long time. they never divorced, no one ever left. they were together. are together. until death did them part.
and I think that is one of the most beautiful things i have ever been able to witness in my life. death cab for cutie has a lyric from a song called "what sarah said" and it simply says: "love is watching someone die, so who's gonna watch you die"? And that is exactly what my Papa did. he was right there for Mimi. right there next to her, loving her, sleeping in the hospice room in a chair next to her bed--refusing to leave her alone. he loved her more than i have ever seen anyone love prior to that.
Mimi's death completely changed Papa. a part of him is now gone with her, never to come back until he joins her in heaven--whenever that may be.
the power of their love astounds me. it terrifies me, it gives me hope. that is what i am striving for in my life, whenever i finally marry. to have a love so real and so selfless that when my wife passes, or i pass before my wife, that a part of myself is gone along with her--because that is how much of my heart she has.
my Papa and Mimi are an absolutely amazing example of that kind of agape love. my heart breaks for him every time i see him, but it also swells with joy to know how in love they must've been--to see that they really did "become one".
my hope is that i will be so changed when that point in my life comes...to know that i really did live to love another person with everything God gave me to love them with. i am sure that he is going through absolutely immeasurable hurt, but i am also sure that the joy and love he felt for and with Mimi was and is as equally as immeasurable.
"there is no safe investment. to love at all is to be vulnerable. love anything and your heart will most certainly be wronged, and possibly broken. you want to make sure keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one--not even to an animal. warp it carefully around with hobbies and little luxuries avoid all entanglements, lock it up safe in a casket or a coffin of your selfishness. but in that casket; safe, dark, motionless, airless--it'll change. it will not be broken, it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. to love is to be vulnerable. " --the frozen ocean
No comments:
Post a Comment