Bloody Mary

6 months ago today I had the last conversation I would ever have again with my grandmother, Betty Lou Radtke.  She knew that it was her time to go. She was scared, but she said she knew this was exactly how her parents felt.  I told her, “Don’t say that.” “They’re going to take great care of you here.” I said “In a few weeks we will be going to garage sales.”  She knew though, a reality that I still have trouble facing; she was being called up.  We spoke for a while I could see sympathy in her eyes because I think that she knew just how very sad I would be.  I knew she wanted to see Charissa, Carlee and Charlie.  And I praise God that she was able to speak to them before they had to incubate her.  I could see knowledge in her eyes.  I tried hard to deny it to myself, but she already knew she had an appointment to meet the Lord. 

She was the one dying and she was trying to comfort me.  Other family members came in and talked to her, and tried to comfort her.   And soon she got to a point where the doctors had to incubate her just to give her fighting chance.  Before they did that they had to run a central IV line in her neck because they were not able to do a regular one in her arm.  The sweet ER doctor asked me if I would stay in there to help her stay calm for this procedure.  And of course I wanted to.  I held her hand and talked her through this painful procedure.  She told me I better take care of my girls and Charlie and I told her not to worry, that she was going to be just fine.  In efforts to make the young Doctor blush, she said, “Krissy, doesn’t he have the prettiest red hair and isn’t he good looking?” And I think the young Doctor and I both turned a shade redder than his hair.  “Yes Ma’am” was about all I could say, laughing to myself.  The pain of the procedure was getting pretty bad, and I told her, “It’ll be over soon, and they will give you pain meds when they get it in there. “  Her response was, “screw that, I want a bloody Mary.” 

This was our last actual conversation.   There were times over the next few days that I knew by looking in her eyes that she was trying to tell me just how much she loved me, even though she couldn’t speak because of the tube in her throat.  She passed away a day and a half later. There are times that I hear her voice as clearly as I would if she were standing next to me.  And there are times when I talk to her.  There is not a day that goes by that she is not on my mind.  I miss her beyond words.   So tonight, in her honor, I will sip on a bloody Mary, and reminisce of all the life and love she gave to ensure my happiness and success in life.  I miss you Maw Maw.