For The Ones We’ve Lost
Sometimes the only thing you can do is remember
Grandma died on May 22, 2024, in the early evening, shortly after dinner. When my mom found her the next morning, she was still wearing lipstick, fully dressed, and sitting on her office couch. It appeared she sat down to catch her breath, and then had her heart finally give out at 98 years old.
As a member of the “Greatest Generation” my grandma, Betty, lived through some wild world events. My great grandfather (her dad) died when Betty was young. A veteran of World War I, he’d endured trench warfare and mustard gas and eventually succumbed to the exposure. Not a few years later, Betty’s mother died, and she went to live with her grandmother. As a child during the Great Depression, grandma Betty worked to help make ends meet. She met my grandfather during World War II, just as he was being sent overseas with the 82nd Airborne. A strict and regimented man, but also full of humor, my grandad rarely talked about the war. This didn’t stop me from idolizing him and eventually joining the military myself. Still, it was my grandmother and I who maintained a close relationship for some 20 years after he died.
Grandma once told me that when she turned 80, she planned to pick up smoking again because there was nothing classier than having a “smoke and coke” (Coca-Cola.. not cocaine)…
