Sorting through documents, I found this thing I'd written about my Nana shortly before she died.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Last night my mom told me my grandmother has 2 months at the very most. I was supposed to go see her today but hadn't the energy left to drive there and back tonight. I felt absolutely terrible, but I got to talk to her on the phone which made me feel a thousand times better.
She was baptized this morning as a Catholic. For 20 years she's been a Protestant in a Catholic family and I am so happy for her. She was very sad and emotional on the phone, but she was so happy to be baptized this morning. That's so wonderful for her.
She told me how she'll always love me and everything you'd expect from your dying grandmother. My throat caught when I had to say good-bye though. Last time I saw her, I knew I'd get to see her again. I'm going home tomorrow, but I don't feel so sure anymore.
I want to remember her forever just as I saw her the last time on Easter. You might have seen a sick old woman lying in a cold hospital, but I didn't. She was so beautiful to me and so amazing. She was a vision of perfection that day, and I could swear she was an angel. Perhaps it was the white gown she wore and the white lights around her in the room or my memory exaggerating and perfecting as it sees fit, but I don't think so. She glowed with that inner light which I've only seen in a few people I'm close to.
The love I felt from her in that room, surrounded by all her children and grandchildren and her husband was so strong and enveloping. I don't know if you would have seen it, but the world did not exist outside of us.
I want to remember my Nana shining as she did that day, with the light of the love of her family, all flowing and intermingling and connected to all of us. I want that image burned into me forever.