From the moment I was conceived down to the very second that I entered the world, there was someone who was going to love me unconditionally. Although as a youngster I wasn't aware of this ever growing, indescribable love, it was always there. What a special feeling to have someone waiting for you to enter the world ready to love all over you. This strong-willed, Steelers loving, western watching, disciplined woman was my maternal grandmother. My name to her was "Baby Doll".
This woman introduced me to a unique perspective of the world that I didn't appreciate enough until now. She taught me a new language, for example "rubbish" means "trash" and "worsh" means "wash". Her very demanding spirit strengthened my ear drums because it was seemingly impossible for her to use her inside voice when she needed to say something or wanted something done. She would sit in the same exact spot everyday on the left side of her strange valore-ish suede-ish couch as if it had given her the perfect angle to watch TV. She was always accompanied by a cigarette and her crossword puzzle books and I can't NOT mention her white phone with the twirly cord that rang loud enough to alert the entire neighborhood. She wore these two braids that jumped over the hills of her shoulders and raced to her hips. She was always dressed comfortably in Steelers paraphernalia and pants with elastic waists. She never painted her nails and she hated pictures, yet someone how I can feel her spirit through every photo I see of her.
She had this strong cough for as long as I could remember and this distinct way to clear her throat that sounded as if it strained every vocal chord she had. For a good 16 years of my life, I can't remember a moment where she was sick. But that would all change...
What began as a routine check up would change our lives forever. My grandma, Betty Pepper, would leave the hospital one day diagnosed with Stage four breast cancer. I've never actually witnessed someone being stabbed in the heart, but I can almost promise this was the equivalent. I wasn't, sad, angry or hurt, but confused. By this time in my life, she was invincible, she was immune to any hurt or sickness, but let's face it she was human. I don't recall her being sick much even well after her diagnosis, because she was still glowing, and somehow her spirit didn't die out. Although she refused hospital food and ate minimally each day, I still saw her the same. Eventually she would lose her hair and speak a lot less, but she was still the grandma I knew and loved from the moment I was able to comprehend the concept of people and feelings and senses.
Eventually, she would lose her fight to the cancer and honestly, a part of me left with her. I was numb and angry for a while all until I experienced her even after her passing.
The night before my first birthday after losing her, I couldn't bear the thought of such a special day without her. So I did what any other grieving granddaughter would do, talk to her. I talked to her that night and while fighting through my tears and heavy breathing I rounded off our conversation with a simple question to God. "Can I please see my grandma one more time?" Soon, I drifted away into a sunken slumber and began to dream. I dreamed of a stressful day of musical practice that wore me out so after practice I set home to get some rest. As I began to drift off, I felt an energy towards my closet. I immediately looked in curiosity, and there she was, my grandma, smiling. She looked just the way I remembered her at age five and age 10 and age 13. She was there to visit me one final time and show me exactly what that unconditional, indescribable love that she had for me the moment I entered the world was.
My sweet angel smiled at me one last time.
