The Little Blue House on Wilson Avenue
I miss it more than anything.
Growing up, I spent a fair amount of time at my grandparents house. Between Christmases, Halloweens, Thanksgivings, family dinners, summer cookouts, weekend long sleepovers and so many more visits, I made some of my very best memories there.
My grandparents were two of the greatest people to ever live. They cared deeply for providing our family with nothing but happiness and making sure that we always came before them.
I know most can say the same for their grandparents, that they are sweet and caring, but the love mine had was some of the best.
I unfortunately lost my grandmother unexpectedly back in 2009. I remember that night so vividly, though it is one I would like to forget.
My other grandparents, my dads parents, were up visiting from South Carolina for the week. As usual, we got together with my family and spent the day and a good part of the night with them. Around 11 p.m. we made our way home and my sisters, parents and I all happened to fall asleep downstairs in the family room.
Around 2 a.m. the phone rang. You wouldn’t think a ringing phone could be so eerie and sinister, but when it rings so late at night, waking you up out of a sound sleep, you know something must be wrong.
As I was coming to, I heard my mom frantically asking “What’s wrong, Dad” ?over and over and I immediately felt the blood drain from my face.
My grandmother had been in and out of the hospital for the better part of the year due to her struggle with Myasthenia Gravis and some other health complications. About a week before her death, things were really looking up and there was a lot of talk about her coming home.
My mom, sisters and I went down one afternoon to visit her in the hospital, as we knew with my other grandparents coming to visit, we wouldn’t be able to visit for a day or two. She was in high spirits, looked really well and was doing so much better than she had been.
Our visit took up the entire afternoon, but if I knew now that that was going to be my last time seeing my grandmother alive, I wouldn’t have left.
I would have stayed there and hugged her longer.
I would have told her more than once that I loved her.
I would have thanked her for being such an important part of my life.
Once the phone call ended, my mom woke the rest of the family and said we needed to get to the hospital right away, that my grandmother had gone into cardiac arrest. She was being worked on, but things weren’t looking good.
By the time we got there, she was gone.
Her beautiful face was still, but I kept waiting for her to move.
For the longest time, I couldn’t bear to go over to her. She was laying there as if she was asleep, but I couldn’t see the rise and fall of her chest taking in breaths.
She was so still that it put me into a sort of shock.
She must have been crying because she still had a tear resting on her cheek. It breaks my heart to know that she was all alone, probably scared out of her mind.
All I could think about was how she wasn’t going to see me graduate. She wasn’t going to be at my wedding, or anymore birthday parties. She would never make another Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner again and she wouldn’t sit at the kitchen table doing crafts with my sisters and I anymore.
It’s inevitable that we will one day lose our grandparents, but until it happens. you don’t know the pain it causes.
After my grandmothers passing, my grandfathers health quickly started to deteriorate. He spent most of his time in and out of the hospital, to and from nursing homes and eventually he moved into an assisted living place.
In 2013, he wasn’t able to do much on his own. His health declined very rapidly and after months of lack of mobility, the need for 24 hour assistance and a bunch of other complications, he was placed into hospice care.
For those who may not know, hospice is where you go when there isn’t much else that can be done to prolong your life. You’re placed there to be comfortable and taken care of as much as possible.
Unlike my grandmother, we knew that we did not have much time left with my grandfather. Once he was put into hospice, we went to stay with him right away because we weren’t sure how long we had.
We went down early one evening with the expectation that we would be coming back home that night. The nurses and doctors told us that it could be any time now. He maybe had hours left, so we decided to stay.
After hours of being there, it was getting late and he was still fighting hard. He was unconscious through it all, but I know he was trying so hard to hold on. My aunt and uncle lived in Virginia at the time before my uncles passing and they hadn’t made it back to Maryland to say goodbye yet. They arrived late that night, but he still wasn’t letting up.
A few days went by and he was still pushing. His vitals were showing that he was getting worse, but he was still with us. After staying there for half the week, we took turns going out to get real food for dinner then going home to take showers and get clean clothes. My moms entire family; my aunts, uncles and cousins were all there, with visits from extended family packed like sardines in one room, so it was good to get some time away. Once we got back, things were still the same.
Everyone was shocked at how he was holding on.
Throughout the week, I was sleeping in hour-long increments. My sisters and I were given a private room where chairs were made into makeshift beds and the lack of comfort prevented me from sleeping, along with the overall realization of where I was and what was going on around me. Death was literally everywhere.
On the eighth day, I was so beyond the point of exhaustion that I did not wake up until after three in the afternoon. I went down to the room, got myself a shower and sat with my mom, aunt, uncle, dad and grandfather.
There was a really weird feeling in the room that I hadn’t felt during the week and I think that’s when it really hit me what was going on.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off my grandfather. His heart was beating so hard that it rocked his entire body back and fourth with every pump. He always had a clean-shaven face, but there was hair growing all over which I had never seen before. He was so skinny and his skin so yellow, that it was starting to not even look like him.
I knew my grandfather was in there somewhere. I was just waiting for him to come out.
While looking directly at him, wondering why I was already going through losing another grandparent so soon, he opened his eyes for the first time in over a week. He was looking directly at me and the slightest smile swept across his lips. My heart started to beat so fast and I jumped up from my chair and for a brief moment I knew he was going to be okay. I knew he wasn’t dying, he was coming out of whatever it was he was going through. And just like that, he breathed in really deep and didn’t exhale. When I say that I literally saw the light leave his eyes, I mean it. I don’t know how to explain what I witnessed, but it’s something words can not describe.
After the passing of my grandfather, it was time to clean out my grandparents house and get it on the market to sell. I wanted so badly for someone in the family to move in, but neither the location, work that had to be done, or timing was ideal for anyone.
There were so many beautiful memories made in that house. To this day, I wish for nothing more than to go back and relive all of the times I spent there.
Once everything was all moved out, the emptiness killed me. The walls that once hung pictures and different artwork and Knick-knacks my grandmother collected were empty. The candy stash they always kept in the corner was gone. The outdated blue carpet was replaced with hardwood flooring. The thought that I’d be back soon was no longer part of my life.
Once the house was all fixed up and on the market for an open house, I went so I could go inside one last time.
It wasn’t even the same house anymore.
All the imperfections that made that house what it was were gone. It was new and so different than what it had ever been.
Family after family were in and out and all I could do was cry. I didn’t want any of it to be a reality. I wanted my grandparents back and I wanted the house to go back to the way it was.
It just didn’t seem fair.
While the entire house was different, there was one little thing that didn’t change. There’s a window at the top of the stairs that looks out onto the backyard and a big field where I grew up chasing lightening bugs and playing in the snow. The window was still there, unchanged.
I stood there for what seemed like an hour looking out that window, pretending everything was just as it once was. I was going to see my grandfather walking out the back door to put some burgers on the grill. It was like watching a movie as so many memories on that yard and deck flooded my mind.
Two years later, after my final time walking into that house, I am happy that there is another family creating what I hope to be just as happy of memories as what my family created. I drove by one day not to long ago and noticed kids toys in the yard and all I could do was smile. While we may not be able to create memories in the house anymore, there is another family who can.
While I can’t create anymore memories with my grandparents, I have a lifetime of them to relive in my mind whenever I like.
You never really know how much you are going to miss people or a place until they are gone. Take advantage of the moments and places in your life right now. Hug your loved ones and don’t hesitate to let them know how much you care.
If you made it this far, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. This was not an easy topic to write on, but once I started typing, I couldn’t stop. While this isn’t my usual happy and uplifting work, this is real. This is me opening up and writing on a huge part of my life and I greatly appreciate any and all support ❤ I love you and miss you more now than I ever have before, Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop. I think it has only gotten harder as time has gone on. I hope I am making you proud.
