Today I opened a hall closet, from this closet eminated a familar smell. A smell that was from my childhood, my teen years and my adulthood. In an instant my mind wondered back to times of running and playing until the sun went down. Of kool-aid mustaches, lemonade on a hot summer day, sprinklers, running barefooted laughing and playing without a care in the world. Of Sunday mornings spent trying to sit still in church. Why this scent invaded my closet,I do not know.This closet houses games, toys and books.
Maybe the scent filled my senses to remind me of happier times.Times that need not be forgotten.Standing there at my closet door, smiling, lost
in thoughts. Remembering my youth.Somehow when we are children it seems as if we will never grow up.
But with this brief moment of joyous reflection also came a harsh sadness.The scent I am speaking of is the scent of my Grandma, freedent gum, kleenex and lipstick. All my life thats the aromatic mixture of scents that made up my Grandma's "signature scent", laughs. Its kind of amazing how a flood of memories can come back to a person from just a simple scent. Her purse, her clothing, everything about my Grandma smelled of that scent.The sadness comes from the fact that I wasted many years not getting along with my Grandma. My Grandma had Diabetes, it wasn't till she got really sick with the disease, that I got to know and love my Grandma . I took care of my Grandma alot, for as long as I can remember I have always thought my Grandma had the prettiest hands in the world. Each and everytime I had to stick her finger to check her blood sugar level it about killed me to have to do so. Several times a day I would have to poke one of her pretty fingers, it seemed as if every finger was covered with tiny little poke marks. None the less I would poke her finger, she would cringe or cry out that it hurt,they were so sore from all the sticking. I felt so bad for doing it. She would smile and tell me that ,"I know you have to, its okay, it only hurts for a second." Those words haunted,for I felt like a terrible person. For poking my sick Grandmas fingers relentlessly with a needle, even though I knew it hurt her.
My Grandma died 5 years ago, I have never grieved or mourned her loss. She died scared and alone in a nursing home, where I placed her. At the time I was caring for my 2 year old son, my infant daughter and my wheelchair confined handicapped mom, it was just too much for me to do. I took my kids to see my Grandma the day before she died. She talked to my son, her first great grandchild, she held my daughter. Basically she told us all goodbye, she held my hands in hers, her pretty hands were like ice, they were so cold. In my mind I knew that was the last time we would ever see her.The next morning she passed away quietly in her sleep.
When I heard the news, I did everything I could possibly do to not think about the fact she was dead. I spent the afternoon detailing out my car, while family and friends gathered to grieve.The phone would ring,over and over I had to hear, "How sorry they were for the loss of my Grandma." I went to the funeral home to view her body, she lay there so peaceful as if at any moment she might awake. Her smile affixed on her face, as if in a pleasant dream.I just sat there looking at her,feeling nothing . With exception of her hair was wrong, I fixed her hair,and brought a different lipstick to put on her. For the
color they had on her she would have called "a color fit
only for a hussy!"My grandmothers hands were still pretty
even in death,she had the prettiest hands I had ever
seen.At the funeral I sat there blankly staring at her
lying there,her sisters and brother all looking at me as if
I were to blame My Grandmas oldest and dearest friend was at her funeral.Her name is Ada, she is a throat cancer survivor, though she lived, she sacrificed her ability to speak audibly.Ada has known my Grandma longer than either my mom or myself. I watched as the tears ran down her face, falling silently from her eyes. I felt so sorry for Ada for she had so many words she wanted to say but could not. Ada hugged all of us in turn, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling and shaking so hard. Words forming on her lips but not passing them only making her sob harder, sobbing with no sound only the tears that fell.
My Grandma gave up because I put her in a home for the elderly.Yes, I put her there but none of her sisters or her brother bothered to help me with her. My uncle, who lived 300 miles away helped, my younger sister helped as much as she could.Yet, I stand tried and convicted of sentencing my Grandma to her death, in the eyes of her siblings. As I said before ,"its been 5 years and still I have not grieved."If I could then maybe the hurt ,the guilt,the pain might begin to ease.I just can not allow myself to cry,to scream, to get angry.I guess today maybe my Grandma tried to let me know its time,to come to peace with this demon inside me.I just stood there with the stabbing lump in my throat, the tightness in my chest, the feeling of no air getting into my lungs,yet gasping to catch my breath.Pain deep inside my stomach trying to come out, I felt dizzy,I felt nauseated, my hands were so sweaty.I kept rubbing them together trying to dry them off. My eyes filled with tears but they did not fall, for once again my mind became distracted, in order not to grieve, not yet. What I would not give to see my Grandmas pretty hands again............
