Years ago when Grammy was first worried about Alzheimers she told me that even if her mind forgot me her heart never would. I can still see her standing in her kitchen tapping her chest, both of us getting choked up. The doctors cleared her then but I never forgot that conversation. It was a comfort and a lifeline when she did start to forget. When I moved across the country I clung to the belief that we were all buried deep inside her heart knowing that my absence would mean she’d forget me sooner.
I know it was true, that her heart didn’t forget us, because I felt it when she died. A loneliness and a feeling that the world suddenly knew me less. We haven’t been able to talk on the phone in years, but her being here was still something because, suddenly the fact that she’s gone and I can’t, leaves an awful hole.
Her love was fierce and it was without limits. It’s without limits still, not even death can quash it. Even in our grief it’s shining brightly, burning in all of our hearts.
Thank you Grammy. No matter where I go, or what I do my heart won’t ever forget you either.