A Simple Phone Call
Sometimes I will go whole weeks without talking to my family. Today I called my mom, who told me that Grandma is really depressed and I should give her a call. All day it has been in my mind to call her. All day I spent trying to deal with little kids who are super brats so the phone call was not going to happen unless I put on a movie. I do not talk to Grandma very often, honestly because it makes me sad to talk to her, I love her immensely, and when I talk to her in the back of my mind is this little voice saying "Will this be the last time? Will I remember to say 'I love you' just in case I never have another chance?"
I hate hate hate that I do not visit her, and I hate hate hate that I do not even call her once a week (or even once a month.)
When we were kids she was so vital, valiant and vivacious. I can't say I took her for granted, because I was a kid, they take EVERYTHING for granted. My mom made sure we spent time with her and it was always fun. Grandma took us one trips (the picture is from a trip to SLC when I was 10? with Hairball, her brother, her mom, and Grandma. I realized as I was looking through our trips that there are very few pictures of Grandma. She took hundreds of pictures of us, she made sure to document our trips, yet her lovely face is almost absent in the albums. I guess when I look at the picture album, I am looking at our trip through her chocolate brown twinkling eyes.)
After dinner tonight I made myself sit down, pick up the phone and take the time to call her. I spent nearly forty minutes talking to her, and listening to stories. I feel good, because I know that she appreciates phone calls. I feel awful because she told me that she has been in a funk, and that she thinks it might be because she recently returned from a trip to South Dakota, and visiting her sister. Auntie D isn't doing so well, and Grandma said it was her "trip to say goodbye to the place." Goodbye to her childhood home, goodbye to her sister.
I can't imagine visiting South Dakota and knowing that Auntie D isn't in her trailer, with the hair salon on one end. I can't imagine not hearing about the HUGE rock, that was at the end of the lane that Grandma walked past. Then we would drive up to it, or walk over to it, and it was so little. But as I aged I realized that two things have happened, Grandma was just a little kid when she made those memories and that rock has been exposed to the elements and in 80 years it must have become smaller.
A simple phone call has made me ponder so many of my memories. So many of the places I have been, and people I have met, would I have been ther if it weren't for her? No, a resounding no, because first off, I wouldn't be here if it were for my very own Rosie the Riveter. She is the matriarch of my great family. She is the most loving and wonderful person I have ever know, will ever know, and I just hope that she knows that.