Deborah Aylor-Polisoto
There are things that affect you for the rest of your life. Losing a parent is one of them. Back in 2007 I lost my grandmother – who played a dual role in my life. She raised the four of us girls with help from my Aunts. In my mind and heart, my mother has always been just that- my mother. I was old enough to remember many of the good times when we (Robert, Shirley + four) were a family. I don’t know if that is a curse or not, but I have always been my mother’s daughter. I defended the defenseless – I made excuses when there were none, and eventually called it as I saw it as I got older. Neither my grandmother nor mother were perfect. If I had to say who was the better Christian, it’d be my grandmother. If I had to chose who was my rock, it was my grandmother. My grandmother taught me morals that later in life didn’t seem to apply to other family members in some circumstance, but those that still live may understand why that was. Nonetheless, I am my mother’s daughter and when I needed her as I got older, she was there. Things I couldn’t burden my grandmother with, I could tell my Mom. Empathy was my Mom’s strong suit, until the dementia set in. All the hardheadedness, not sure who I got that from, but Shirley left an imprint on my life in more ways than I care to admit. After being extremely ill from Peripheral artery disease (yep, smoking created this issue), and suffering from dementia, she found relieve on November 15 of this year. God invited her home.
Christmas was her favorite time of the year. I tried my best to honor her – but I failed miserably as I cannot find it in me to celebrate much. Not too far from the feelings I had when my grandmother died in 2007, I continue to morn in my own way. My Mom’s memorial was held at my sister’s church this past Sunday, December 3rd. It was a sparse group – with a few grandkids, three out of the four of the “girls” and a few parishioners who came to show respect for my sister. What do we even do this for anyway? I asked myself as I tried to read the eulogy I wrote.
Life is short, hold those you love dear, tell them you love them everyday.
