I apologize for this long diary-like post, but I am full of grief with no outlet, and I want to honor this woman by sharing her story with others.

I never knew my grandmothers, both died just a few years before I was born. My mother had a coworker who was an older woman, and she said her mom must have sent this lady to be her guardian angel. This woman, V, was hilarious, loving, and strong. Her husband left her after her daughter was born with severe mental disabilities and health issues. V had to work hard as a single mother to raise her daughter. She wasn’t afraid to say it like it is, but she could also make the best out of any situation. V and her daughter were inseparable. She was patient but stern with her daughter and gave her the best, even when that meant letting her daughter move out of the family house and into a disabled adult care facility. She took my mother, my father, my sister, and I under her wing and could seemingly provide endless emotional support to all of us. I’ll never forget when I was young and lamenting that I never knew my grandmothers, V gave me a hug and told me she could be my grandma if I wanted. And that’s truly what she was to me. I cherished our relationship.

V loved to try new restaurants, and she was brutally honest, so when I cooked for her recently and tried out new recipes, which she ate every last crumb of with no complaint, it was a great compliment. She was always content to sit at our house with our animals and talk for hours. V was never rich, but she would casually give us all sorts of little gifts. She even secretly financially supported me through college because she was so proud of me for getting into my university. I’d thank her profusely and insist she shouldn’t spend so much money on me, but she’d just shrug me off and say she can do what she wants with her “old lady money”, as she called it. V was funny and as quick as a whip.

V came to all of my music/theater performances from middle school through college. She loved them. I was in rehearsal last night and at 8pm I checked the time and thought about V. She would love this next concert, and I was going to see her and tell her all about it today.

Last night, at 8pm, my parents got the call that V had passed away. She had been struggling with many health issues for the last several months, and contracted an infection at her care facility that forced her to be dependent on the nurses for everything, which I know was humiliating for her. That, combined with the minor stroke she suffered last week and her pre-existing health conditions, left her in a very bad spot. But V was fierce and persistent. She had been fighting these illnesses for years. This woman would drive herself to her dialysis appointments because she was too stubborn to depend on others. No one thought she would pass so soon. She came home yesterday and fell asleep waiting for the home nurse to set up her medication. She did not wake up.

I am glad that she got to be home when she passed, and not alone in some nursing home. She was a fighter for 79 years, and she deserved to rest. I am devastated that I did not see her one last time. It feels like my heart is splintering into pieces. I was excited to tell her that I graduated college, that I interviewed for my PhD program, that she would love my next concert. My parents went to the hospital last night to see her. V always wanted to be cremated, so I will never see her again. I will never hug her again, or hear her rich voice, or kiss her cheek, or feel her bristly hair that she always wore short and spiked up. She was the definition of a bad ass woman. She was an inspiration. She was simultaneously a gale-force wind and as sweet as pie. There will never be another like her.

Thank you, V, for being the best and only grandma I knew. I love you.