I lost my maternal grandmother just a few short months after I began this blog. Last year, I lost my paternal grandmother…the one I was really close to. It’s been about six months, and I am thinking about her a great deal right now because Mother’s Day just passed, and her birthday would have been next month. She was a June baby.
I miss her. I really miss her.
I was blessed to grow up with both sets of grandparents alive, and two great-grandmothers as well. Not many can say the same. I know that I wasn’t just fortunate, but I was lucky. I knew the love of so many people, for so long.
Sometimes I look at old photos of her and wonder if she’s the reason I have always wanted to be blonde.
I loved my paternal grandmother. So much so, that I packed my bags and moved to North Carolina with her the day I turned 18. I jumped in her Dodge pickup truck and ran away to the mountains and I didn’t think that I’d ever go back.
We drank wine coolers and built a house and smoked cigarettes on the porch beneath shooting stars. That was a month of life lessons, guys. She helped me back out of an engagement with a man I didn’t want to marry. She pointed her cigarette at me one night and said, “you don’t have to marry the wrong man.” So I didn’t. My parent’s didn’t approve of that engagement, and I honestly didn’t even want to marry him, but those words coming from her? They were akin to a battle cry of freedom.
She told me I was too smart to drop out of school, so I went back.
At her memorial service, someone called her feisty. I’ve been called the same. I never realized how much of an impact she made on my entire life until she was gone.
Someone – I think my mom – sent me this pic after she passed away in November, and I never realized how much I looked like her until I saw it. I have that Bagwell chin.
I have my mamaw’s chin. I think it’s a good chin.
2016 was a year of loss. So much loss, there are no words to describe it. 2016 BLEW. It was the worst year of my life. I don’t even know how I’m still breathing, when I take a step back and think about all of the heartache I endured last year. Just when I though that I was laying at rock bottom, the proverbial rock bottom, scrambling to pick up the pieces, it fell out and I plummeted.
My grandmother, my Mamaw, was dear to me.
Hug the ones you love. You never know if it’s going to be the last time you see them.