Grams

This beautiful lady is my Grams. Donna Dee Lyons.

A lover of jeans, cold beer, and a good lipstick. An incredible cook, awesome listener, and spit fire personality. Proud, loyal, funny, and extremely thoughtful. Bass player, bowler, dancer (who could really shake her tail feathers), gardener, and baseball fan. A woman who always had time to for her children and grandchildren.

She passed away two nights ago, May 25th, 2008.

Lung cancer - but on her own terms. She died in her sleep, in her bed, in her home, after seeing most of her family in the prior weeks.

She was such an important person in my life.

I have a lifetime of wonderful memories that are tied up around her, especially my childhood and adolescent summers spent visiting her and Gramps in Newell. Reading magazines all day (As an adolescent, "Ten Ways to Keep Your Man" was very important reading) eating awesome dinners every night, going for coffee every afternoon (they drank coffee and I drank cherry shakes), painting my nails with her famous beige nail polish, crawling in bed at night in the West Bedroom, into clean sheets that always felt cool and smelled so good ...

Watching her battle crawdads in the hoses outside, helping her water her flowers ... listening to her advice about how "real" tans meant your neck was a bit lighter than your face. Nothing was more fake than a sunbed tan to her...

In later years she would call me just to say hi. She'd touch base because she loved me and cared what I was doing. Those phone calls always made my day. I'd return the favor and call her, too, but wouldn't you know she was always out. I LOVED that about her. She was always busy and on the go. More than once I have thought about how I want to always be like that. Be the woman who had something going on. Be the woman who looked awesome in jeans and who always had lipstick close by.

But mostly, what I really love about Grams is how is was always there. Especially in the tough times. She was there to listen, to help, to encourage ... to offer a beer.

Recently I was at her house for a visit. It was before her tumor was diagnosed as lung cancer. I remember walking in and seeing her sit at the kitchen table. Her apartment was spotless, as was she, but she just looked tired. It was the first time I had ever allowed myself to think that one day I would lose her. But, we had a wonderful visit. She never complained and never let on that she wasn't doing too well. However, she had a grocery list sitting on the table and asked me if I would mind running out for a few things for her. That's when I got it. She wasn't able to leave her apartment. The lump in my throat was so thick ... I was relieved to go to the store so that she wouldn't see me cry. To this day, I have her hand written grocery list pinned to my fridge. Radishes, oranges, lettuce, an avocado ... and the one thing not listed but *really* wanted was "Honey, see if you can find something sweet to dip into coffee." I brought her donuts and the way her eyes lit up ... she must have wanted them for awhile.

I didn't think that visit would be my last, but it was. And here I sit on bed rest, unable to attend her funeral, unable to say goodbye. It is one of the hardest, most disappointing moments I have ever had. But, maybe this way, when I am finally able to visit her resting ground, I can tell her these things in private, and in a way that she can hear me. Maybe I'll bring donuts - there's only so many flowers a girl needs, right?

I love you Grams. I miss you so much.