Chrissy Dente
CNF Essay 2
Some
people are lucky to live with the best parents in the world; I was lucky enough
to live with the best grandmother in the world. Mom-mom was my right hand lady,
we were always buddies; I was her babe. She moved in when I was in second grade
and my home was not complete without her. She wore the typical grandma
sweaters, with kittens and holiday themes and even in her 70’s, she still
didn’t have her ears pierced. But I’ll be dammed if you ever saw her not
wearing clip on earrings, and ill be damned if you ever heard her complain that
they hurt.
Mom-mom
was a widow. My grandfather died before I was even born, and she moved in so we
could all take care of each other. She watched us kids while my mom worked, and
my mom cooked, cleaned, and did her laundry for her. It was a team effort. She
always had her hair and make up done. Her hairdressers even came to the
funeral, that’s how much time she spent at the beauty salon. Her frosted blonde
hair was always curled and puffy, with lots of hairspray. She was sassy and
loved her Dr. Phil. God; she never missed an episode. I can hear her now
saying, “I cant believe these people,” as she listened to their stories. It
amazes me how much I miss her.
When
I was younger, she would come tuck me in and sit on the end of my bed. She
would sit for a while, watch some TV with me and sometimes it would bother me
so much because I couldn’t move my legs around to get comfortable. I also knew
that she made sure I would go to sleep and not read or watch more TV. Before she would leave she would stand
up, pat my back and slowly walk out. She had a hip replacement and walking was
difficult for her. As much as it bothered my 11-year-old self, I’d do anything
to have her sit on the end of my bed one more time and watch her slowly and
carefully walk out.
After
she passed away, I realized how much I missed seeing her white Buick waiting to
pick me up from school. Ever since second grade, she picked me up from school.
From elementary school, to middle school, to even freshmen year of high school,
you can bet Mom-mom would be waiting her in car, with a newspaper and a snack,
at least thirty minutes before I was let out of school. She was easily the
first one there everyday. I would get so embarrassed though because she would
drive so slowly. Even the crossing guards would be annoyed because of how
slowly she would drive. Years ago, I went to the doctors with her. We were on
the Black Horse Pike, a fast road, and she was going 35 MPH. I was so stressed.
Cars were honking and passing and even at 13 or 14, I knew she needed to go faster
before she killed us. I finally said, “Mom-mom you have to go faster!” She got
so sassy she yelled, “Do you want to drive?!” I couldn’t help but laugh. She
always got offensive over the littlest things. Still this day I can still
giggle about that story, despite the stressful driving situation.
Mom-mom
spent all day home alone as my parents worked and my sister and I went to
school. She was lonely and my pet dog, Cody, who was a Jack Russell Terrier,
became her best friend. Cody turned into “Chody” because he was overweight from
all the snacks he shared with Mom-mom. They would sit on the couch together,
with Dr. Phil on of course, and they would share crackers, cheese, and the
occasional Oreo. As I got older and no longer needed rides home from school or
cheerleading, she and Cody would wait by the door. I couldn’t turn the key in
the hole without hearing “Hi Chris!” within a matter of seconds. After a long
day, it became exhausting to hear that and get bombarded with questions as soon
as you walked in. As exhausting as
it was then, I would love to see her waiting there and answer all her questions
she had ready to ask.
She
loved me more than anything; I loved her too, of course. But like we all know,
as we get older, we become too busy for family and are too focused on friends,
school, and sports. The summer before Mom-mom passed I was lucky enough to go
to Italy to visit family with my other grandmother. Since the day I landed back
home all Mom-mom wanted to see were the pictures from Italy; she died in
December and she never saw the pictures.
If
I could go back to my sixteen-year-old self, I’d smack myself. All Mom-mom
wanted was to see the pictures from my trip but I was always “too busy.” Seeing
those pictures probably would have made Mom-mom a lot happier. At this moment
in her life, she was suffering from severe depression. Her and her significant
other separated after 10 years, my mom, her daughter, was just diagnosed with
breast cancer, and Mom-mom felt like a burden to everyone, even though she was
not even close to being one. As the depression continued, Mom-mom started to
let go. She started to lose it and her loneliness showed. I was still a
sixteen-year-old who went about her life, ignoring her fading grandmother. I
was selfish; did I know better? Yes. Did I realize what I was doing? No. If it
were today, Mom-mom would have seen the Italy pictures a hundred times. There
would not be an ounce of attitude in my voice when I said “Hi Mom-mom” when she
bombarded me at the door after school. If I could change anything in my life,
it would be my final months with her.
I
know many people don’t see my situation as a big deal. So what, you didn’t show
your grand mom pictures from your trip. The situation was so much more than
that. We went about our lives as Mom-mom sat in a depression. She started to
forget to take her medicine and a month later she passed away in the hospital
from heart failure. It was too late to save her. I’ve felt guilty ever since.
If only I paid more attention and knocked off my teenager attitude. If only we
all stopped our busy lives to give Mom-mom what she needed. Mom-mom knew I
loved her more than anything, I know that, but I feel as though I let her down.
I know it’s too late but if I could change it I would. I let her know that
every night in my prayers.
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