Very rarely in life do people get to see what being a truly altruistic human being is, let alone have one intervene to prevent certain disastrous derailments to ones life.
Very rarely do you find someone so committed to that cause, they’re even willing to endure the interruptions to their own life.
That was my grandma.
At 13 she decided to foster me. This, after years of abuse and neglect from my parents. I’ve written about a lot of it, there’s still more to write, but she took me in at what might have been the last opportunity to grant me some kind of exposure to how I should be as a dad. What kind of woman I should seek. What kind of people I should surround myself with, and what sort of kindness I should be putting out in the world.
I only can do 1% of what she did.
She not only looked after me, she looked after all her kids. She looked over some of her siblings and their children. Helped some of them out.
Of all the people I ever knew, I ever met in life, she is the only one I would ever consider a saint. An angel on earth.
Her last decade or so with dementia was not easy. Dementia itself is hard, but even harder when those you entrusted to take care of are actively trying to take advantage.
Choosing to be your protector and actively fighting so you could preserve what fragments of dignity you had on this long goodbye was by far, the greatest honor I ever had. I never faltered, always remained as steadfast as I could until the very end for you.
I love you grandma. I believe everyone gets their own version of heaven. Yours will be when you were in your 20’s in the 1950’s. Your boys all babies, probably living on Decker way. Grandpa is young and strong. The family is still together. San Jose is simpler. Your mom and all your brothers and sisters are still alive and well. I’m glad you get to go back. I’ll see you again when I get to my own version of heaven.