My Grandma

I was wearing her earrings when I heard. The diamond earrings the jeweler set from her engagement ring. My Grandma gave them to me on my 18th birthday, because she said every young lady needs a pair of diamond earrings — especially if it were her birthstone.

I only wore those earrings on two occasions: my senior prom, and for my wedding. She always said she liked the way they sparkled on my ears.

When she went into the hospital on Wednesday night, I felt compelled to wear them. I wanted a part of her with me somehow. This wasn’t her regular tune-up she had done when her blood sugar crashed.

Part of me didn’t think this day would come. If any of you ever wonder where my stubborn nature comes from, you don’t need to look any further down the family tree than my Grandma. She climbed into our tree house when all the adults thought it was a bad idea, she jumped into a boat because she didn’t want to wait for a foot stool and broke her leg at 65, and refused to ask for help most of the time. Tyler joked that this behavior was what he had to look forward to when I got older.

But all of that made her a strong woman who I looked up to. She spent much of her childhood in Egypt, earned her math degree and taught, and then moved to Alaska with her husband and three kids when the Al-Can Highway was gravel.

Around 4 a.m. (2 a.m. Alaska time) my mother called me. Grandma past on.

It’s always hard, even when you know it’s coming. There’s something about the finality of it all that’s hard to deal with. Maybe it’s just waking up and knowing for the first time in your life that someone isn’t there.

I love you Grandma, and I’ll miss you.