As I am writing this I am sitting in the Hospice Center watching my mamaw lie in her bed. This was the same place that my dad passed away. How ironic that mother and son would die in the same facility. I didn't think I would be back here after my dad passed, but I was wrong.
It was torture to come in here. Not only because of the memories of losing my dad here but because you know once you enter these doors that death is awaiting. My grandmother has lived a long 89 years and I know that she will be in a better place. I would like to believe that she will be reunited with my brother, by dad and my papaw. She has longed for my papaw for 30 something years now. She will finally be with him once again.
I have nothing but great memories of my grandmother. As a kid I would stay with her most every Friday night. I always looked forward to anything she cooked. I wish I would have paid more attention to how she made her steak and gravy! We would always eat dinner and then we would sit on her back porch for what seemed like hours not really saying much. But I was happy being with my grandmother. We would talk about how her and my papaw met and how she knew that he was the one.
I will always hold a very special place in my heart for my mamaw because she helped to make me who I am today. She was the glue that will always hold our family together.