Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Signed, Sealed, then Delivered!

We signed the Petition to Adopt that the Lawyer needs to present to the courts. 


My Mawmaw passed away yesterday... suddenly... but she had been very sick for the last few years.  She is in a better place!  She never had to suffer in a nursing home, she never lost her abilities to walk, see, hear, etc.   She suffered from Sjögren's syndrome more of her life than not.  It basically attacks your glands.  She produced little siliva, tears, sweat, and it caused her many health problems in the final stages.  Her throat was so dry she couldn't eat.  It was very sad. 


This is the eulogy I wrote.  My Pawpaw said I could speak at the funeral.  Hopefully the pastor can fit me into his sermon etc.  I don't really care for their pastor... Mawmaw didn't either but Pawpaw refused to change churches.  If I don't get to read it, it will be ok.  Writing it flooded me with memories of my childhood and although I am not really a "mourner" kind of person, I think it was my way to mourning and moving on.  I am a realist.  I know she's in a better place and I am happy she didn't have to suffer in pain for years to come. 


Love you Mawmaw!  If there is a Heaven, I know you're hugging all of those you loved here on Earth.


When we were kids we spent so much time at Mawmaw’s house.  She was the person that a gift to all of the kids on your birthday so no one would feel left out.  She took us to gospel sings, showed us off to all of her friends, and always made sure we had everything we needed.

As we got older we spent every summer living at Mawmaw and Pawpaw’s house.  She took us shopping for school clothes, cooked us her spaghetti and my favorite Salmon patties, and even though it was bed time, you couldn’t get to sleep because Mawmaw would check on you to make sure you were warm and had enough pillows.  I remember in those summers Pawpaw would leave for work and I would go lay in his spot just to spend time with her before the other kids woke up.  We would watch soap operas and just lounge around for the morning.  

Then we became adults.  When we needed a bed and a meal Mawmaw’s door was always open.  Some of us stayed a few days, others a few years, but Mawmaw always knew how to make us feel right at home.  

She had a big heart.  It was her strength and her weakness at times.  She was a giving and caring person that was loved by so many wonderful people.  She loved her kids, grand kids, and great grand kids just the way a Mawmaw should... unconditionally.

My husband and I are adopting two little girls, and even though she only knew them for a short time, she WAS their Mawmaw.  She showed off their pictures and never made them feel any less than family.  

I think the thing I will miss the most about Mawmaw is her voicemails.  They weren’t messages, they were one sided conversations, but as much as we giggled over the years at the long messages she left, I am very sad today that I won’t get to hear her voicemails again.  

We love you Mawmaw and I know you are hugging Cathy and rejoicing over your reunification with her!  Her home is decorated with angels, and now she is one.


4 comments:

Last Mom said...

That is beautiful! I am sorry for your loss. I was very close to my grandparents growing up, but have struggled as I grew up and realized some unsettling things about them. I will always treasure my childhood memories of time spent with them, though! I think your Mawmaw is smiling down on you right now - one step closer to finalization! Congrats!

La Mama Loca said...

So sorry for your loss! We are blessed to have such love and support to guide us as adults and shape our future. The memories we hold on to help us become the parents are precious kiddos deserve!

Congrats on one more step closer to finalization!

Lindsay Mama to Nine said...

What beautiful words for your Grandmother....I can feel your love for her. I lost my Granny last August. I can relate.

DeeChloRox said...

What a wonderful legacy your grandmother leaves in you and your siblings and cousins. She sounds just like we think a grandma should sound.