Friday evening at 5:45, my dad called me, sobbing.
“Pray for your Grandma, Avery, it’s not looking good.”
Later that night at 7:30, I received a call from my mom:
“Hey, Avery. I just got a call from Uncle Mark. Grandma Jo didn’t make it.”
I answered very professionally, and I comforted my mom as she cried over the phone. I was getting ready for the Buzz formal and was about to leave, so I really didn’t have time to process her words. Chief Keef was blasting, and my makeup was already done, so I just told myself I was fine. My dear friend Lilly was there when I got the call and hugged me, but I said I was fine, and I didn’t want to spoil anyone’s time.
I said I was fine, and I was, until later in the evening when it sank in that my Grandma Jo was really gone. Once the realization hit, my sweet boyfriend just held me as I sobbed for hours.
I have never lost anyone close to me before, other than my grandpa, who I lost when I was little. But this was different. I knew my Grandma Jo; she took care of me while my mom was still at work when I was a newborn. Our vacation growing up was seeing her in Salt Lake City, and our big surprises were picking her and Poppop up from the airport or having them surprise us at school.
They took care of each of us when we were born, or when my siblings were born. She loved all of us more than she loved herself, but growing up, she was my special person, my first best friend, my first role model other than my mom.
She always laughed when Natalie was born because she and my cousin Kade were “hogging” Grandma Jo from me, and in a fit of jealous rage, I yelled:
“She’s not your Grandma J, oh, she’s MY Grandma Jo,” which made everyone laugh, but deep down, I was always so scared of losing her. And now, that fear has finally come to be.
Even when I was a moody teenager and always mad at the world, she found time to spend time with me and get hot chocolate or coffee with me when she visited. She always cared so much for the people and animals around her. That was always my favorite thing about my Grandma Jo; she always taught me that being a girl meant being a strong, intelligent, and loving woman. She never let me forget that.
Grief is weird because I keep expecting her to send me a text asking how college is going, and tell me some update about the Houston Astros (her favorite team). Some days I’m completely fine, and others I think about the feeling of her holding me as a little girl, and the smell of her perfume, and the sadness washes over me. I remember how, when I was little, she would try to read the book I was reading with me, so that I could have someone to talk about it with, and that was the kind of person she was. Always loving and always trying to find a way to love.
Grandma Jo, I don’t think there will ever be a day that I won’t miss you or wish that I could’ve talked to you one more time. The best I can do is live my life making you as proud as possible, and show you that you helped me become a strong, intelligent, and loving woman today. Rest sweetly and soundly up in heaven, and tell the rest of the family I say hello.