Grams

Every year, my heart freshly remembers my last moments with my Grams. She had been declining, but she had made it to December. We had lightly decorated her house, following her instructions as she sat on the couch. I was leaving for a family vacation, but would be back in a week. I went to her house for a visit and when I left, I vividly remember hugging her while she sat in a chair in her kitchen and saying, "I'll see you when I get back." The day before we were supposed to come home, we got the call that she had joined our Savior Whom she loved so very much. We got a flight for the next morning, and I don't think I stopped crying in the van, in the airport, on the plane, or in the truck on the way home. After immediately seeing family and sharing our sorrow and heartache, I got home. We had a stack of mail from being out of town, so I started going through it. My Grams' Christmas card was in there with a last hand-written message from her saying, "Merry Christmas! Love, The Grandpeeps" This time, my tears were happy because THIS was the last goodbye, a little gift for me. She even used the endearment "Grandpeeps," which is what I always called them ... even though I always thought she never liked it very much. I might not have gotten to see her when I got back, but she got in the last word anyway. It's always such a bittersweet story, but I'm always thankful for that last message to me. Love you, Grams.