It Happened Too Fast

I’m 7 years old, Becky is 4, and we’re running up the concrete walkway to grandma and grandpa’s house. It’s the familiar little sidewalk we’ve ran up 100 times, lined with black and yellow pansies (they were grandpa’s favourite), up to the brown, brick house with the matching reddish brown door we never knocked on. This house was our second home, we didn’t have to knock, instead we’d walk right in and yell, “hi! It’s us!”. “Hi girls, come on in!” We’d here grandma say as we breathed in the delightful scent of fresh baked buns and deer steak frying in the kitchen.

I’m 12 years old and thankful we’re done picking the peas in grandma’s oversized garden. The sun is at its peak and so is my thirst. We head inside and grab a glass of water and some large bowls to shell the peas. I don’t know it yet, but we’re in the process of making memories I will forever cherish as we sit there shelling, lost in conversation.

I’m 30 years old and beyond sleep deprived as I watch grandma snuggle my first born baby. “Oh how I miss these tiny hands and feet”. She says, kissing his little toes and cherishing his tininess in a way I’m too tired to understand or fully appreciate. But as I watch her, so gentle and loving, my hearts melts seeing the woman I’ve admired and looked up to my whole life with my new baby. There’s something so surreal and full-circle about this moment.

He’s 9 years old now. “Are we here? Is this where grandma is?” He asks as we pull up to villa she’s been accepted to. We grab the vase of flowers we bought her for Mother’s Day and head to the door. “Who are you here to see?” One of the workers asks me. “My grandma, Liz” I reply. She's in a wheel chair now and as the worker wheels her out to us grandma lights up! “I knew it was you! I knew it would be you guys when she said I had visitors!” I leaned down and hugged grandma so tight as she kissed my cheek like she’s done ever since I can remember. “Oh how big everyone has gotten!” She comments about all 4 of my children. So far she remembers us and I’m so grateful because I know this could be short lived.

How did I blink and we’re here? How did I blink and grandma isn’t the grandma I remember? Her strength, her mind, her stories… they’re all fading.  And as I reflect on all of this it really solidifies how time isn’t on our side.

It happened too fast, this chapter nearing its end and I’m not ready. I try not to focus on what's inevitably coming, but instead be thankful this chapter isn't over yet. I remind myself it's still being written and there are still stories and memories to be made, like how on our last visit she told us she snuck a kitten into the villa and lost it because that place "is so darn big!" She assured us that she sneaks around the villa every night leaving piles of cat food everwhere, including outside her door, in hopes it will return to her. My cheeks hurt and eyes were crying from laughing so hard at something that, even though I knew wasn't true, would be something that wouldn't surprise me if she actually had done it.

So while this chapter is still open, I will continue to contribute to the stories and cherish every moment and memory we make while I can.

Thank you for allowing me to share a little personal side of my life with you.

God bless,

Sarah ❤️🥰❤️