a sad goodbye

josephine marie ernst 1/18/24 - 9/8/08

this weekend, i traveled to north carolina to attend a memorial service for my grandma. she had fought so hard against pancreatic cancer for the past year. she bravely underwent painful and extensive surgery last august, underwent months of chemo and, just a few months ago, declared herself cancer free. but she wasn't. and the devastating, fast moving cancer took over her body just a few weeks ago. the doctors opened her up and tried to do some sort of surgery. they closed her right up, told us she had about 2 weeks to live. they were right almost to the day.

i was one of those lucky people who had the chance to know all four of my grandparents for many years. although i miss my mom's parents very much (they both passed away four years ago) i was always closest to my dad's mom. i was her first grandchild, and i had the good fortune of living in the same town as them during my formative pre-sibling years. my grandma spoiled me rotten.

my grandparents retired to north carolina 13 years ago, and i inevitably saw them less and less. but i still cherished every homemade meal, every trip to her warm and loving home, every batch of anisette cookies. i knew if i ever lost her, i would be inconsolable. i just hoped to avoid a total breakdown.

a year ago, i don't think i could have survived her death. but now i am in a different place in my life, a happier place. i am content and fulfilled in a way i have not felt since i moved to nyc three years ago. i never wanted to have to deal with this, but i feel better prepared. i know she is proud of how far i have come; in her final days she bragged about my new job to her friends when they came to visit her in the hospital. she showed them the magazine that she didn't get a chance to read herself.

although i helped write her obituary and the touching eulogy my father gave yesterday, i still feel like there is so much to say about my grandma. she was an amazing, giving woman, someone who i strive to emulate. she volunteered for every cause, gave of herself and her time and skills as an expert cook and baker. she knit hats for premie babies born to drug addicts. she had friends around the world that she always made time for, no matter what.

i will miss the love she made you feel upon immediately entering her home. i will miss her food, because to her food was love. if you ever brought guests to her house, she would ask them what they liked to eat, and plan the meal around their likes and dislikes. and in my family, the meal is the highlight of the whole day. at breakfast, she would ask what you wanted to eat for dinner. and her baking, oh the baking. one year for christmas, i begged her not to buy me a gift. just bake me some anisette cookies, i told her. of course, she couldn't resist tucking some money into the card, but i also got several pounds of cookies delivered to me. to this day, my mother and i cannot replicate her incredible cookies, even if we follow the recipe exactly. i don't know what her secret was, but i think it may have just been experience and love. love is yummy.

i have cried because i will miss her hugs, her food, her cuteness, her humor. i will miss her yelling at my grandfather -- BOB! i am sad that she will not be at my wedding, an event i'm pretty sure she had been looking forward since the day i was born. i mourn the fact that she will never get to see my own children. but i cherish the fact that i got to know her and have her in my life for 25 years. i want to learn from her example and live my life for others as she did. i want to cultivate friendships and care for my family as she did. the church yesterday was filled with so many people who loved her and will miss her. it was beautiful and moving.

in helping my dad write the eulogy, i came up with a great sentence that i am very proud of, and i feel it sums up my feelings very succinctly:

if it is any consolation, we know she is with god and her family, watching over us, cooking a big pot of spaghetti and meatballs and waiting for us to join.