Last week Thursday, Keith came home to a sad wife. For some reason, my mind started to take a trip down memory lane. The memories that played out caused tears to run down my face onto my bright-eyed daughter who laid on a pillow on my lap. She seemed to have known that I needed to be cheered up because it was at that moment that she broke out into the widest grin her little face could muster. That made me laugh through the tears and lifted my mood a little bit. Let me back track ..
Throughout my pregnancy, I was very active. What do I mean by that? Well, I would go to the gym twice a week (as consistently as possible) and attend a New Body and Body Vive class. I’m a morning person, and these classes were offered at my women’s only GoodLife gym at 9:30am which worked perfectly for me. I was probably the youngest in the class and let me tell you, those older women (easily 60+ years) were a sight to see! They knew how to move, shimmy, and shake as if they were in their teens. Every time I attended class, I thought to myself that I aspire to be just like them in my golden years.
I also went to prenatal aquafit classes once a week at the Miles Nadal Jewish Community Centre. For once, I didn’t have to feel self conscious about my belly not being as flat as I would’ve liked it to be. In prenatal aquafit, the bigger your belly, the cuter you looked in your swimsuit! Not only did I go to the gym and swimming classes regularly, but you could find me power walking all over the city. My husband rolls his eyes every time he checks in on me while he’s at work and I tell him that I’m on the road running “one more errand”. He says that I’m too “busy body”. >Insert me rolling MY eyes here<
Anyways, one of my younger cousins always likes to tease me about moving like our grandmother. Boy oh boy, that woman stayed on the move! She didn’t wait on anybody to take her anywhere. She was fearless, she was independent and she was a woman that loved God. I never have a problem with taking the local transit system and neither did she! In fact, for her, it was just another opportunity to tell others about Jesus’ love.
Today marks eight years since she passed away and the pain is as real as though it happened yesterday. Maybe because I’m a wife and mother now and she isn’t here to see me grow into these roles that it hit me in a way it never did before. I wish she was here to have met Keith and see how much he loves me, even when we are at odds. I wish she was here to have met her great grand-daughter because I think that she’s pretty amazing. I just wish that she was here to be that pillar of strength that our family desperately needs and genuinely misses.
Keith must have known that I needed some cheering up too. He came home right after Char got me to laugh with junk food which is all I really wanted. When he asked me how I was, I tried to play it off but he saw right through me and insisted on knowing what was wrong. So, I told him and we talked about it and I felt better. I miss my grandmother every single day…. I suppose the thing about losing a loved one is that you never really stop mourning completely. I would like to think that if my grandma could see me today that she would’ve been proud of the woman that I have become and that thought alone is what helps to motivate me during the times that I find myself in the valleys – metaphorically of course.
Indeed, I move like our grandmother – the best compliment anyone could ever give to me.