My grandmother passed away on November 1st 2022, in the wee hours of the morning.
It was All Saints Day, which was appropriate timing on her end.
I couldn’t sleep that night; as midnight passed by, I snuck downstairs and sat on my loveseat with my Harry Potter blanket to keep me warm and a jigsaw puzzle up on my computer…sometime after 3 am I felt a peacefulness come over me..so I shut my laptop down, climbed upstairs, and went back to bed.
Three hours later, my mother called to tell me the news, and later on, I found out that it was around the 3:00 am mark when she slipped away. My mother also had a dream around that time, something like angels singing.
I swear my mom and I are psychic. Her mom, my grandmother Rose, used to read tea leaves…so you never know.
Grandma Rose passed away many years ago. She and grandma Sadie were friends as girls. I hope Sadie & Rose are sitting for tea right now and reunited with their cats, who are walking figure eights around their legs, brushing their fluffy tails on their pretty dresses, and making them giggle like little girls again.
I will admit that I am sad today as I write this. Melancholy was creeping in already, and I think grandmas passing has created a bed of sadness for me to lay in.
I seem to lean into sorrow.
I genuinely feel all the feelings..or rather, bathe in them as if they were epsom salts.
Listen, I get it…she was 92 years old and had a full life…I know..she had a full life, but fuck off.
That doesn’t mean it is easier to say goodbye.
Maybe I am too sensitive?
I know I am, so there is that.
I don’t want to make this about me, but it feels like I am.
I want to express myself; I can’t just bottle it up.
I don’t know if I was a good granddaughter. That is the truth. I know I loved her, and I know that she loved me…but I don’t know if I was there for her as much as I could have been.
Sometimes my depression has prevented me from being there for others….or maybe that is just an excuse…hmmm…something for therapy, I guess.
She didn’t need me, though. She was fiercely independent and had way more friends than I did….but this is how we reflect on death.
could’ve…should’ve…would’ve…
Want to know something funny? She used to flirt with my husband.
Boy, was she adorable when Kyle was around.
I think maybe we had similar tastes in gentlemen. I loved that about her. She loved love, and she wanted everyone to be in love.
In my memories, she is constant, like a house that stood strong and tall and weathered all the storms and seasons. It welcomes you in; it keeps you warm; it offers you a place to lay your head. You can see that the years are weighing on it, but it still provides you with a comfort you cannot replace because nothing else feels like it or smells like it. It is home …Sadie was home.
xo
Michelle Lee Stuart
an ode to Sadie...
Dear Michelle, Thank you for the beautiful ode to Sadie. It was perfect. No, you're not too sensitive and of course you're psychic. We all are, we've just disconnected from it in this modern tech world. You made me laugh and then tear up at the Sadie/Kyle story. :) I didn't know any of my grandparents and I often wonder if I would have seen myself in any of them. So, you were blessed to have Sadie in your life all those years and I'm certain she felt the same way about you. 💗