My MawMaw
by Sharon deBoisblanc
(Hammond, La. USA)
I lost my Grandmother almost three years ago... Feb 21 will be three years. I miss her so much. She was the only constant in my ever changing life. When my mother died tragically in an accident, I was ten. My Grandmother had already been raising me and took full custody of me. With no real plans how to get past the sudden tragedy of my mothers death, my Grandmother found us a place to live, herself a job, and made things work. My mother had been the sole financial support before, now my Grandmother was.
I find my mind wandering to the house where my MawMaw lived when I was little. How I hated to leave, things were not great living with my mother. My Grandmother took me in many times, getting me though the turbulence of my mothers awful moods, controlling me, abusive marriage, and suicide attempt. MawMaw was my rock.
Many times while I am at work or just alone at home, I relive the times at that house when things were pleasant, when I was at peace, when I was alone. It makes me sad. I feel so empty without her there. It gave me strength just knowing she was there rooting for me, making me feel safe.
I always wanted to do great things for her. To succeed, buy her a great house, new car, give her confort in life. I failed, I've not succeeded, and even if I did now, she is gone. I have nobody to share my life with. I can't remember a time when she was not there.
I have isolated myself from life, finding it difficult to make efforts with anyone. I have talked with therapists and they say I need change: Move, they shout. I lived here before her passing, I am in no hurry to leave my apt./home, still close to where MawMaw last lived. In my mind I think of her trailer and believe she is still there and that we are just going through one of our non-talking periods, because I am too busy at work.
I wish she still needed me to come visit her, we were best friends. I miss my best friend so much. MawMaw listen to the hawk calling outside, I wish she were here to hear it. My heart is so broken. We did everything together. I was in her back pocket, and she was in mine. Twins, best buds, bffs. I keep coming home alone and wondering when it is going to end. I am so miserable.
I am sorry to ramble so, this is the first time I have told anyone about her like this. My aunt came to live with MawMaw just before she died, and she gobbled up all the attention as though she knew the first thing about her mother, when she spent most of her life running away from us and blaming her.
My MawMaw's name was Macil Noble Zito and she was 82 when she left. When she said her age, 82, she said it with a sense of accomplishment, like she made it there, met her goal. I heard it in her voice and it would scare me. As healthy as she was at that age, it was unexpected to see her decline so quickly after my uncle's sudden death two years before.
Maybe she and I were unnaturally close. I don't see many people close like we were. I feel she left me behind, and I wish I could just go be with her. None of this is important anymore without her to share it with. I will never have a friend like her again. I will love her forever.