Guardian Angel
The woman on my left never favored having her photo taken. When asked to take a photo, she always would do so reluctantly and timidly. But on this night, it was different. As you can clearly see from the pride in her eyes, she was so overjoyed to be my grandma in this moment. Her grasp on my waist displays the unconditional love that she had for me. As I reflect on this night, I never would have imagined that the aisle and stage at eight-grade graduation would be the only ones my grandma would be able to see me walking across.
Before this photo was taken, I always complained about how slow she drove when she picked me up from school on days my dad could not make it back to town. If I had to be somewhere at 3:00, I would have had to tell her 2:30. That is how granny speed works. Don’t get me wrong, I loved spending time with Grandma Kathy, but, at the time, there were places I would have rather been on a Friday afternoon than in the optical part of Walmart picking out her new glasses.
When Sunday dinners at my great-grandma’s house were still a thing and I was the only child in the family, Grandma Kathy would sneak little spoonfuls of ice cream to me while my mom was not looking. Even though I grew out of the “other people feeding me” stage, her compassion never halted. Every birthday or Christmas I was destined to find a heavy bag full of soaps, shampoos, and lotions with my name on it from Grandma Kathy. Although it was never greatly appreciated in the moment when my brothers were opening their toys and I was surrounded by soaps, her act of kindness was always recognized when I was in a pinch with an empty bottle of bathroom products. In fact, I am currently on the last bottle of soap that she gave me.
The smile on my grandma’s face in this photo represents everything that she was when she was with me: happy. I remember a specific time in my life when she pulled me into the other room at my brother’s birthday party to tell me that I meant so much to her. That day she gave me a charm bracelet in a purple box with a white bow that had a message about grandaughters inside the lid. I remember her soft hands, the kind that only a caretaker would have, held mine as she cried and told me how I was an answer to her prayers. In that moment, I knew that it was a time I would cherish forever, and I was correct.
My grandma was my number one fan. Even though most of my extended family was always way too busy to make it to any recitals, I always knew that I could count on Grandma Kathy to be sitting in the center section of the auditorium at the 2 o’clock Saturday afternoon show. Following every recital, I would meet her outside of the doors and there she would be, smiling with a bouquet of flowers in her hand and a hug ready for me. She made me feel so special and always reminded me how much I was loved by her. From the time I was born, she worshipped the ground that I walked on. Being her first grandbaby, I gave her the title of Grandma Kathy first - a title that she longed for for her whole life, a title that she definitely lived up to.
When this photo was captured, I didn’t know that this would be the last one that had my grandma’s beautiful face next to mine. I didn’t know that this butterfly-loving, Birds and Bloom-reading, blackberry cobbler-making life would be taken from our lives so suddenly. I didn’t know that she wouldn’t be there to see me in the pink cupcake-like homecoming dress that she loved 3 weeks after the day she left us. I didn’t know that her warm embrace followed by “I love you baby girl,” on the day of my brother’s 10th birthday would be the last time I got to feel her soft, worn body. I didn’t know that my heart was capable of the amount of heartbreak I felt when my parents approached my bathroom in the morning to tell me that my grandma was in a car accident and was no longer with us. I didn’t expect to be giving her eulogy at her funeral at the age of fifteen.
I would give anything to have her pick me up from school one last time. Heck, I’d even let her drive as slow as she wanted! Those extra fifteen minutes it took us to get to dance would be fifteen minutes spent with the most amazing woman I have ever known. I would give up my most important plans to go glasses shopping with her today. I wish I could look back without regret, but that just isn’t possible. I took the time I had with my grandma for granted because I thought she would be here forever. But she isn’t, and that in itself has taught me so much about life.
She taught me many things throughout her short-lived time on this earth as my grandma. She taught me how to be persistent as her life was a great representation of what it's like to be pushed down and stand right back up. She taught me to enjoy the little things, such as butterflies and warm cobbler on a cold winter night with the family. She taught me the importance of putting others before myself with her caretaker heart always ready to lend a hand. She taught me to never take anything or anybody for granted because everything in this world is so temporary. She taught me that I must find purpose in my life because she found her purpose in me, such purpose that lit up her face like a child on Christmas morning every time she saw me. These lessons are ones that I will hold close to my heart for the rest of my life.
The legacy she left grows in importance everyday I spend without her. Every time I see a monarch butterfly, I am reminded of her simplicity and joyful spirit. When I eat blackberries, I can’t help but thinking of her blackberry cobbler that was to die for, even if she said, “It may not be that good this time,” every time. Her presence is not just represented by materialistic things, though. Many times I have encountered individuals that resemble my grandma’s character. For example, every time I walk into work, our secretary, who reminds me a lot of my grandma, is there smiling at me and eager to hear about my day. I don’t know if it is a coincidence or fate, but seeing my grandma show through others is a reminder that she is still with me in heart.
Looking at this photo during this time in my life, I can’t help but smile. Her pride and love shines through, which runs parallel to the life that she lived. I am reminded of her presence in many ways. On the day of my 18th birthday, I was gifted with a time capsule that my family put together for me at my first birthday party. Among all of the newspapers and photos of people I don’t recognize anymore, there was a letter from my grandma. At the time of opening the time capsule, I wasn’t strong enough or in the right state of mind to open that letter. Recently, though, I rediscovered the letter and read it in the comfort of my own bed. It was a reminder of everything my grandma stood for. Once again, she reminded me that I was the greatest gift she ever received, and that being my grandma brought so much joy to her life. At the end of the letter, there was a statement that I have needed to hear for the past three years I have went without her. She ended the letter by saying that if I was reading it and she was no longer with me on this earth, to know that she is watching over me and is very proud of the young woman I am becoming.