I pick up my phone to call my mom to share the good news, or seek solace in face of the bad. Then I stop. Helpless agony fills me yet again with the realization that she is dead.
I have been doing this for three years now, more so because it is February and my Mom died on Valentine’s Day. I wrote her eulogy.
I saw Grandma at the grocery store this Saturday. Joy filled me and I ran with my shopping cart to hug her. I’d been thinking of her for months and longing to talk to her. We hugged and it was wonderful. There’s nothing like a hug from Grandma.
She had a bag of tomatoes in her cart. If I only wanted a bag of tomatoes, I wouldn’t bother with a cart. We talked, but only for a few minutes. The mother and the daughter of Karen Ann. We were both in a hurry to leave the store and curl up with a movie…we both said so at the same time. Then Grandma removed the tomatoes from her cart, put them back, and left.
On the drive home, I realized it was strange to see Grandma at that store. She lives on the opposite side of town. But then I remembered it is February…and that grocery store is next to the craft store that Mom, Grandma, and I used to frequent every Saturday.
Grandma is still hurting too. I know this now and I feel like an ass for not thinking about it before.
I’m going to call Grandma and spend more time with her. Not just because it’s February.