Mima

In my last post I mentioned that my Grandmother, my moms mom, my Mima, had died. She actually was given just a few days to live several times before, but kept saying she wasn't ready and she kept holding on. No one could ever figure out why (and the hospice nurse had advised the family not to ask).

The last time she was given "just a few more days" was the day I went into the hospital to be induced. My mom and her sister were able to be with Mima as she drew her last, unfortunately painful, breath two days after P was born.

Before she died though, she bragged to everyone at the nursing home that she got a new great-grandbaby, so my mom printed off a picture I sent her of P right after birth and tacked it up over Mima's bed so everyone could tell her how pretty P is, which I guess that just thrilled her to pieces. I can't help but be moved by that. I'm so glad she was able to find joy in our sweet baby girl during her last few days. A tiny part of me wonders if that's why she held on. Mima LOVED babies and could put one to sleep lickety-split - everyone in the family called her lap the Nap Lap.

My mom and her mother never liked each other. My mom thinks it stems from Mima and her mother (who we called Granny Cane, which I think is in the running for weirdest Grandma name ever) not liking each other, as my mom and Granny Cane were very close and very similar. (Luckily my own mother has broken the cycle and loved both my sister and I equally, and I'm pretty sure, likes us both as well. Haha!)

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure my Mima ever cared much for me either (I'm exactly like my mom). And I can tell you truthfully that I never cared much for her. I mean, I guess I did as a kid - I tried to be around her, asked to spend the night, etc, but we hardly ever saw her - even though we lived in the same town. She had kind of a woe-is-me personality, which as I grew older became like nails on a chalkboard to me. Though ironically, in 30 years of blindness, she never once complained about being blind. Oh, she complained about plenty of other stuff though - like if you didn't warm up her plate before serving her dinner on it. But on the day she died I got a message of condolence from a sweet as pie family member who always manages to put things in perspective for me, and she pointed out that Mima could see all of us for the first time in 30 years. I couldn't help but weep tears of happiness for her. She had been reunited with the two of the four children that had been taken from her far too soon, and she could look down and see the faces of grandchildren she hadn't been able to see since we were toddlers, and was able to see the great-grandchildren we had all created.

I haven't been that happy for anyone in a very long time.