It would only be right to have my first blog to be about one of the most influential women in my life. My grandmother, Annie Williams.
It started off with a limp in the beginning of 2009. She wasn't walking right. So much pain. So she goes to the doctor. "Blood clots have flared up, again. doctor says. Eventually she feels better, but now she walks with a cane. Months go by, pain gets worse. X-rays show she has a fracture in her right hip."No, she hasn't fallen", my mother tells the doctor. Surgery day comes. We all wait in her room. My mother (her oldest daughter), my Aunt Joanne (her second oldest daughter), my father and I. Finally my mother gets a call on her cell phone. It's the surgeon. "Don't tell her! Don't tell her!" my mother pleads to the surgeon. He agrees then hangs up. No remorse, no compassion. We all waited in suspense for my mother to tell us what happened.She says the doctor said, "Good news is she's out of surgery, everything went great. Bad news is that she has cancer." I had never felt so sick before. To see my mother breakdown and cry, tore me up inside. The pain just gets worse.
After a few months of subacute rehab, grandma is doing better. Little did we know just how seriously the cancer had effected her. She wouldn't eat. She lost so much weight. And she would slip in and out of reality. Being her oldest grandchild, we had a strong bond. Mom would tell me that she will only eat if I gave it to her. So I would bring her food twice a week, and other times I would just sit and talk with her at lunch time. I told her, "Family reunion is coming up. Greenville, MS, your hometown. You have to get better so you can show me around." She got better, not fully recovered, but she tried her best. She had a blast! She showed us her old high school, where she grew up and all her hang-out spots. Even though she was fully wheelchair bound, I knew that this experience meant the world to her. And me, too.
As time went on, unfortunately, she got worse. Not only had the cancer previously eaten through her righte hip, but now it has moved to other parts of her body. Stage 4 metastatic cervical cancer, was her diagnosis. There was no turning back. All we could do was pray that she stays comfortable. The second week of November 2009, between my aunt and I, we took turns staying by her side. November 17 at 11am, I was just getting in from my over night job. i got a call from my mother saying to meet her and my father at the hospital. I agreed, but something in my spirit already knew what happened. I was the first to get to the hospital. My aunt already there from spending the night. I looked over at my grandmother and I siad to my aunt, "She's gone." She nodded, yes. I cannot remember the last time I had cried so intensely. As I neared her bed, a sudden calm came over me. I felt her presence, as if she was comforting me. My tears stopped as I held her hand, saying not goodbye, but see you later. As my mother and father entered the room, they both had to immediately sit down. As I held my mother, I stayed strong for her. No tears would I let her see. We both lost such a strong figure in our lives. But we gained a stronger bond between the both of us.
Even though it has been almost a year, I still find myself wanting to call her on the phone, hearing her voice, making her laugh. The pain is always going to be there, but knowing that I will see her again makes each day worthwhile. Take this time to tell everyone who means the world to you that you love them, everyday. Life is short don't waste it! RIP Grandma
