He was so soft, round, cuddly and sweet as a baby.
Now he's tall, slender, has a great sense of humor (except he's still figuring out how to tell a good knock-knock joke), he has a heart to obey and please his parents, and you could not ask for a better big brother to Dylan. We also discovered my special little guy had his first loose tooth the day of his birthday.
This year, Ryan's birthday was touched with sadness. We got the call that morning that my grandmother had passed away, on his birthday at 12:40 a.m. We immediately began packing to leave for the funeral, which was a two day journey away. And so this happy day was also touched with grief.
My grandmother was one of the sweetest people I have been privaleged to know. Her house was always a sanctuary of comfort and rest, not only thanks to keeping her house immaculate, but also thanks to her gentle and quiet manner. She was in pain for much of her life, thanks to having an autoimmune disorder. Yet I never recall her complaining or speaking much about herself.
In more recent years, she had a characteristic shuffling walk and she would often get attention by laying a gentle hand on your arm. Grandma never thought ill of anyone. She was always putting herself in someone else's shoes and trying to see how they were feeling.
Growing up, I recall they always had a jar of M&M's free for the taking. My parents, being responsible parents did not always allow me to have as many as I wanted, which would have been all of them. I had been begging for m&ms from the jar that was always filled with candy at their house but my mom had forbidden it. Grandma asked me to come help her in the basement. On the way down, she held my hand, pressing a small handful of m&ms into my chubby hand. "Shhh" she whispered and winked at me. I stared at her round eyed and told her mom had said no. Surely she didn't know that or she wouldn't have gifted me forbidden candy. She just smiled and told me she was "grandma" and grandmas did what they wanted. She said it was our secret. Grandma was a special person who gave and loved without cause and especially when it was not deserved.
There is no question that cleanliness was of great importance to my grandma. If you wanted, you could probably eat off her bathroom floor. It sparkles. She was always insisting gently that we wear slippers in the house, the garage and the basement. Yet, she was patient with our childish messes. When I was about three or four years old, I had the great idea to pour my mother's face wash on the sparkling wood floor of the guest bedroom with my younger cousin. We smeared that stuff over every inch of the floor. Then we began "ice skating" on the slippery surface. When they found us, Grandma must have been horrified by the mess. But she was the first one to insist we didn't know any better when punishment was metered out.
It's really hard to fully capture with words the person she was or express the void that will be there now that she is gone.
This new years eve found us in black, gathered around her casket and saying final goodbyes. Nothing reminds you that the essence of what makes someone you know who they were like looking at the body they left behind. It truly brings home the fact that they are gone. But there was relief too. Relief she is no longer in pain. And peace in knowing that this goodbye is only for a short while. I know exactly where my grandmother is. She is in heaven. She is happy and whole in a body that does not hurt or feel pain. I know I will see her again. This goodbye is just for a short while.
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