Monday, August 31, 2009

Grandma Annie

This morning I found the last jar of sweet pickle relish that my Grandma Anie made. It's still good after all these years, she had been gone nearly 7. I don't know what to do with it. It's delicious, the best relish I have ever tasted, but I'm not sure I can handle the finality of it being the last jar.

I am not even close to being over losing my Grandma Annie, I was just getting to know her when she died. In 2002 I moved to Louisiana to help my grandparents when Grandma Annie was sick. I figured up that before I moved here I had spent 5 weeks with them that I could remember spread out over several years. They needed my help and although I did not realize it at the time I needed their help more. Those of you that really know me already know that story, and I'm not going to get into it here, just know that if I had went to Louisiana in 2002 I would not be here today writing this.

I spent hours with Grandma Annie while I was with her right her in this house I am writing from. I learned about the old days, how her and grandpa met, where she'd been and where she still wanted to go. I got to know my Grandma Annie in the last 6 months of her life. In doing that I learned what the important things in life really are, and my life totally changed. It needed to.

I heard hours upon hours of stories about everything from growing up to getting old. I loved every one. I did not offer her any stories of mine, she would not have approved of any of them.

We talked about movies one day and she mentioned that her favorite movie was driving Miss Daisy. I went and got it, helped her to her rocking chair and we watched it together. Her face lit up like I had never seen. The next week was my birthday and she was upset. When I asked her what was wrong she said she wished she was well enough to bake me a cake. I told her I did not need a cake, birthdays don't mean a thing to me.

A week later she was gone.

I was mad at myself for not coming sooner. I was furious with god for taking her. I felt cheated because I was just getting to know her.

Throughout the time I lived with my grandparents about once a week we would eat vegetable beef soup that Grandma Annie had made and canned. When you "can" something it's in a jar, I say this for any of the younger generation who may not understand that. The soup was delicious, Campbell's could never come close to it. After she died grandpa and I continued our weekly tradition of soup. Then the night came when it was the last jar. We sat through a silent dinner that night with tears pouring down our faces. It was so final, there would never be anymore soup made by Grandma Annie.

Now it's the last jar of pickle relish. Grandpa told me to throw it away. I can't do that. I don't think I can eat it either. It's the last jar, and I don't want to associate that kind of pain with hot dogs, I love hot dogs.

I know she is OK, she told me she was. Many of you reading this will think I'm crazy but that's alright. Like Waylon said, I've always been crazy but it's kept me from going insane.

Diamond Rio has a song called "I Believe". Every time it came on the radio I cried. One day driving home it came on the radio and I had to pull over because I was crying to hard to drive. As clear as anything I heard my grandma Annie's voice say "Son you need to stop crying, I'm O.K"

To anyone who does not believe there is a heaven, all I have to say is I know there is. I know God and Grandma Annie are watching, I sure hope I don't let them down.

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