My mother never got the chance to be an amazing grandmother.
My mother wanted to take her grandchildren to the beach.
She told my future husband and I this the first time we were at the coast together.
She wanted to take her grandchildren to the zoo and to the library to check out books.
And she wanted to take them to play at parks and splash pads and to learn at museums and NASA.
My mother never got the chance to be an amazing grandmother.
She wanted to take them to see Disney movies in the theater.
She wanted to read their favorite books to them at bedtime.
And she wanted to tuck them into their beds.
She wanted to teach them how to draw and paint.
She wanted to show them how to cook and how to grow a garden and sew.
And she wanted to take them shopping for school clothes.
She wanted to teach them how to swim.
She wanted to buy them their first cowboy boots.
And she wanted to show them how to two-step in a dance hall.
She wanted to make them clothes.
She wanted to take them out to eat on their birthdays.
And she wanted to bake and decorate their cakes.
She wanted to eat lunch with them at school.
My mother wanted to take her grandchildren to the beach.
But she never got the chance.
Early onset Alzheimer’s disease robbed my mother (and my children) of every one of these things.
My mom died when my oldest daughter was only a toddler.
And my youngest daughter was born five months later.
She’s been gone for 10 years.
She’s been gone for 10 years of memories.
My mother has missed 10 years of their firsts.
She’s missed their boo boos and loose teeth.
She’s missed their soccer games and dance recitals.
And she’s missed their report cards, awards shows, and school photos.
My mother is waiting for her grandchildren in heaven.
My mother wanted to take her grandchildren to the beach.
Instead, she’s waiting for them in heaven.
A version of this post was originally published June 26, 2021.
