She was more than just a grandmother.
The Early Stages of Grief
By Grace K. Bianco
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:4
If there is one word I could use to describe grief, it would be heavy.
As I write this, it has been five days since I lost my grandmother. People have all kinds of relationships with their grandmothers. I would say majority of people who have grandparents have a soft spot for them… While others are either raised or super close with theirs. As for me, I was very close with my grandmother.
I think what kills me the most is I never really wrote about the relationship I had with mine. By the time I started writing back in 2018, my grandmother got diagnosed with stage four heart failure. When you become that ill, your personality changes, and although, I still had a great relationship with her… It became different.
The things I say in this blog, I wish I would have written when she was alive. I don’t say this stuff because she’s gone now, I say it, because I should have years ago.
If you knew my grandmother, you loved her. She just radiated love, and if she could help you in any way, she would in a heart beat. She loved God so fully that it came out in her personality.
As soon as I could get my hands on my own email in middle school (before I was allowed to have a phone), I would email her. I don’t remember what all I would tell her, but this is when we decided to be prayer warriors together. I always shared prayer requests with her. I grew up with terrible anxiety, and I could always count on her to be there when I needed her.
She was hilarious. My grandmother was so fun to talk to. She loved to talk just as much as I do. I could talk to her for hours so effortlessly.
On her last days, she still kept her sense of humor. She laid in bed with her eyes shut, hardly able to talk but would communicate by shaking or nodding her head. My mom wanted her to know that she was an amazing mother and grandmother. My mom asked her, “Do I think I will be as good as a grandmother as you?” My grandmother shook her head no, knowing she was being funny. After a short pause, she nodded yes. She wasn’t going to leave without being funny.
Up until she got sick, she could run circles around you. She was always doing something whether helping the community or being there for her grandkids. Of course, she was there for her own children as well. For instance, she stayed with my mom and I in Ukraine for the adoption of two of my sisters, because my dad had to go back to work.
When I was little, I thought she was a celebrity, because whenever I was out and about with her, everyone knew her. It took twice as long, because she had to stop and talk. I would ask her, “Grammy, is there anyone in Perry [Georgia] you don’t know?” She would just laugh. She was so humble about everything she did.
To this day, I could say she was the best cook I knew. She would cook multiple meals and desserts, catering to each of our allergies and preferences.
I became lactose intolerant when I was thirteen. Well, my southern grandmother was going to figure out how to make me desserts. She would make me this delicious dairy free wine cake. It was super rich. She would always announce it was lactose free, and by doing that, people avoided it for my sake. So here I was trying to wolf down a rich cake. She would ask me, “Grace, are you eating your cake?” “I am trying my best,” I would always say laughing.
I always found her so beautiful from the time I was little till she passed. She always looked so young for her age, and her bright personality showed in her smile.
She was known for her lipstick. All my life, I watched her do her lipstick throughout the day. She always made sure to do it before my grandfather got home from work. So when the funeral home had to fix her up to be buried, my mom and I made sure to go through her purse to find her favorite lipstick.
She had many grandkids, and I was blessed to be one of the ones who was very close with her. When I was little, I would scream and cry whenever she or I had to go back home from visiting. She lived about five hours away.
I remember my mom or dad always pulling out of the driveway watching her and my grandfather wave at us. One time in particular, I couldn’t stop crying. My older brother was in the backseat trying to comfort me, but it was my grandmother’s comfort that I wanted. “Just one more hug,” I always thought to myself, as if that would help me miss her less.
Although I had terrible anxiety and struggled to have sleepovers with even my closest friends, I had no problem staying by myself with my grandmother for many days. For many summers (even in high school), I would go stay with her, sometimes with or without siblings. When I couldn’t drive, she would meet my mom halfway to pick me up. I even would bring my friends to stay with her. She was fun to be around, and going to stay with her was the highlight of my summers.
When my best friend moved to California when I was sixteen, we decided to spend our final days in Georgia. We knew that we would have so much fun there it would take away from the fact that my friend was moving away. Although I had a couple of moments of sadness thinking about my best friend moving, we were so happy we decided to spend our final days with my grandmother.
She was our biggest cheerleader. She would go to all of our games, dance recitals, birthdays, graduations, etc. She did that for each of her grandchildren. My grandmother never failed to make us feel like we were talented and had so much potential. Even if one of us was just selling something, she would always spend tons of money to help us out.
When I wrote a book and had to raise $4,000, I did a preorder campaign. It costs $40 a book. My grandmother spent over $200 to buy six books. I remember talking to her on the phone. Before she knew the price, she said, “I want six. How much do I owe you?” “Grammy, they are expensive now. You don’t have to buy that many.” “How much?” “It will be over $200,” I responded, hoping she wouldn’t feel pressured. “Okay, I will get a check in the mail this afternoon,” she said, unaffected by the amount.
I could go on and on.
My grandmother was in a lot of discomfort during her last years of life. I praise God that He has now taken away her pain. My grandmother is finally home. Her intense love for God is now being rewarded, and her love for people will live on for many more years.
However, the emptiness I feel is unimaginable. I didn’t just lose my grandmother a few days ago… I lost my close friend, my cheerleader, my chatter box, my favorite cook, etc. (Even though, things like cooking stopped when her health started to decline, she still did what she could.)
I hate goodbyes. In fact, two of my nineteen chapters in my book, “Party Pooper: Growing up with Anxiety”, are about saying goodbye to different people. And those goodbyes were only temporary. This goodbye is more long term (until I die, of course).
Fortunately, my family hasn’t experienced much grief. I have never experienced grief at all, and it is hard for me to wrap my head around it.
I fall asleep crying, wake back up to cry more, and fall asleep again. My eyes are always blood shot and teary majority of the time. It takes no effort to cry, because I have tears always on the surface. You can usually hear how upset I am in my voice. I am tired all day long, and my stomach doesn’t feel good. By the evening, I always have a headache.
I knew her time was coming to an end. She fought so hard though that I always expected her to get through any health issue. When I drove up to her house the day she passed away, I could hardly get myself through the door before sobbing uncontrollably. My mom pulled me into a hug, but the pain was almost unbearable. Even though it had been ages since she had cooked up a meal, my instinct was always to come inside and turn to the kitchen to greet her. She obviously wasn’t there and will never be there again.
I sob for my grandmother the way I did when I was little and didn’t want to leave her. Just like that one example I gave where I didn’t want my brother’s comfort I wanted my grandmother’s, I want her comfort now.
She lived such a meaningful life. I know when she got to heaven she had an amazing greeting. A few days prior to her passing, she asked my sister who was singing when it was completely silent in the room. We take comfort that she got a glimpse of heaven and all the angels before she would leave us here. I thank God that she is no longer in discomfort. I pray everyday that I learn to be joyful for her.
Grieving is the hardest thing I have ever done. I miss her so much. I am so sad for everyone who has to grieve her too. She left behind her husband of sixty years, my mom (+my dad), my uncle (+my aunt), and all four of her siblings. She also left behind twelve grandchildren (+some of their spouses), a great grand baby, and two great grand babies on the way.
If you knew her, you loved her, and oh my gosh, I love her so much.
