Florence

My grandmother died today.

Florence Giddings Foster, born 1908, Hilo, Hawaii.
She was the youngest of four.  They called her “Baby”.

My grandmother taught me how to sew, how to cook,
how to remove stains.  She taught me about roses and
how to make a bed…Her house was always immaculate.
I loved the way it smelled.

When we moved to Tennessee, she and my grandfather would come visit every other summer.They would stay for a month and I awaited their arrival with excited anticipation. My mother hated her.  That only made me love her more…

Florence lived on her own until she was almost 100.   She began to fall, tiny strokes the doctors said.  So, my dad moved her to complete assisted living where they drugged her into oblivion.  “It keeps her calm,” they said.  The few times I was able to visit, she would have lucid moments where she would take my hand, look into my eyes, and beg, “Help me.”

I am not a woman of faith.  I do not “believe”, but for the past three years, my mantra has been, “Let go Grandma.  Fly….”

It’s raining here tonight…the sky cries.