Forgiveness

Sometimes in life, the people who were once close to you suddenly change and become someone you never thought they would be. For me, this has happened with my grandma. When I was little, I loved sleeping over my grandma's house and practically did almost every weekend. She lives in Wethersfield, CT and used to take me through the historical area of town all the time. We would go on picnics, go to Friendly's for lunch all the time, and she would let me ride in the back of her hatchback on the way home because I was "guarding the groceries."

I never knew about Wethersfield's rich history and the famous generals and presidents who came to stay there during the Colonial era until she took me through the old houses and to one of the historical society buildings where she volunteered. Even just looking at the outside of that building, I can tell you where every single room is just from memory. I couldn't get enough of it all. When I was younger, I could probably recite the scripts given to the tour guides in the old houses just from memory as well. I still remember the first book she had ever bought me: The Witch of Blackbird Pond, which was set in Wethersfield in the late 1600s during the time of the Witch Trials in New England. I was 7 years old so she wasn't sure if she should get it because she didn't know if it was too old for me. Well, let me tell you, I read that book cover to cover. 

As I got older, my grandma and I began to drift apart. Although she was great when I was a kid, and still had her moments as I got older, she was still a pretty pessimistic person and didn't always build up one's self-esteem. As I became older and hit puberty, I wasn't the cute little kid anymore. I would get insulted a lot going to her house (not always by her but she also wouldn't defend me). Our relationship eventually grew apart until the day I was accepted to college and graduated high school. But, to give my grandma credit, a lot of the time it wasn't her who did the insulting.

Fast forward to now, 2018. My grandma is 93 and went through hip surgery and rehab. She has poor circulation in her legs and can barely walk. She also has dementia which has gotten worse due to her hip operation and going under anesthesia. She no longer fixes her hair, can no longer make the best meatballs you would ever eat in this world (and she's not even Italian), she can barely speak. When I walk into her house, it pains me sometimes. She is not the same woman. She is a totally different person. I guess that's what happens when you're 93 with dementia. But living in Wethersfield, even though it's my favorite town, is actually very hard and saddening. I rarely visit my favorite areas because they are filled with so many memories.

Grammy, you gave me my love of history, literature, and even dinosaurs (Dinosaur Park was a frequent place we would visit). You would take me to the library every week and we would take out 3 books and rent Sleeping Beauty (my favorite Disney movie) on VHS every time. It got to the point where they started keeping it aside if they knew we were coming in. We would go to the Wethersfield Cove, which is like a tiny beach, and feed the ducks. It is still my happy place to this day. We would walk all around Old Wethersfield and the tour guides ended up getting to know me by name. We would visit my friend the lizard (yes, he was a real lizard) at Dinosaur Park all the time. You even played soccer with me in the back yard so I could practice before the season started. You made my favorite kind of cake every single year on my birthday since I was 2, white cake with chocolate frosting, and we would pick out decorations to put on it. You can't even do that anymore. And even though you and I weren't close as I got older, you still came to band competitions and every musical through high school. 

One day, while you were in rehab a couple months back, I almost started to cry because one particular moment got to me more than anyone knew. You got strawberries for lunch, a bowl of them, but you couldn't cut them. I cut them up for you into small pieces...just like you used to do for me every morning. And I joked about it, but inside it struck a chord. That was the moment I really realized that you just can't do it anymore.

We have had many ups and downs over the years. It broke my heart when I felt as though I wasn't a good enough granddaughter for you anymore. I was so hurt and so angry and confused. But for all those times that I left your house in tears, I can forgive you. I forgive you for that, because it wasn't always you who did it. I forgive you because you did not know how to handle us once we got older. And I forgive you because I love you. Even though the person you are now is someone completely different, inside you're still my Grams. You gave me the best childhood a kid could have. You gave me my love of everything that makes me me. And I still have that book you bought, I will never get rid of it. And even though you don't know who I am sometimes when I walk into your house, I can still make you smile. Whatever God has planned for you, we know that He has a purpose. So we praise Him for letting us have you this long (93 is nothing to scoff at) and as I remember you as you were, we will continue to come over and make you smile as the days go on.