Happy Birthday in Heaven Grandma
My grandma passed away two years ago, on the night before my 46th birthday. Not many people have a grandparent in their life for that long. I’m eternally grateful that I had so many years with her and that my kids are old enough to have memories with her.
My grandma was an amazing woman.
She was your typical Italian grandma. My grandparents were devout Roman Catholics and Grandma attended mass all the time. They would have the priests over for dinner once a week, which blew my mind when I first heard about it. She carried rosary beads with her for her entire life, right up to the day she passed away. Grandma was constantly trying to feed everyone. She was still cooking Thanksgiving dinner in her mid-eighties. She was an amazing cook, and I wish I had asked her to teach me her recipes. She was tiny, always cold, and absolutely adorable.
Grandma was a lifelong caretaker. She helped raise generations of our family. Not only did she help with her younger siblings, but she also helped her sisters with their kids and of course she cared for her own kids and grandkids.
My grandparents owned a produce store. My grandma worked right alongside my grandpa. They eventually built a greenhouse attached to the front of the store. That was grandma’s domain. She loved flowers. There were so many times she would bring a dying flower into the back room, place it into the huge sink, and nurse it back to life. She had the most beautiful flowers. Sadly, I did not inherit her green thumb. I’m trying, and this year went a little better, but I’m not a great plant mom. I was given her giant planters after she moved into the nursing home. I’m hoping to do them justice one day and make her proud.
When I was really young, I remember my grandma cooking a big pasta dinner for all of the staff on Sundays. When it was ready I would be sent to tell the first group to come get some pasta for dinner, and then the second group would come when the first group was done. I would get a plate of pasta and meatballs and sit on the steps to the office or at the drop-down table in the kitchen happily devouring the delicious food. I loved those days.
My grandma loved nice things. She was an obsessive cleaner. She would always have me sweeping dirt on the greenhouse floor. You know, where plants are. I get it needs to be done, but she took it to another level. When I was a grown adult she finally explained why cleaning was so important to her.
Grandma grew up very poor. Her parents were both Italian immigrants. They had a lot of kids and not a lot of money. My grandma didn’t get her first (and only) doll until she was 8. She took great pains to keep the doll safe and clean. She would also talk about wearing ribbons in her hair as a child. She had one set of ribbons that she would clean and iron between uses. She wasn’t obsessive about nice things or keeping everything immaculate because she was pretentious. It’s quite the opposite exactly. She knew the value of things and how hard you had to work for every penny you earned. She appreciated quality and was willing to pay for it. Coming from a poor family, appreciation and respect for what you do have was very important to her. That’s why she took such great care of everything.
Grandma worked until she was about 85. She helped my dad run a greenhouse after my grandpa passed away and the produce store shut down. She would be there watering plants, making beautiful bows, deadheading flowers, sweeping, and decorating wreaths. I loved spending Thanksgiving weekend at the greenhouse decorating tiny boxwood trees alongside her. I tried to make bows like she did, but I could never do it like her. She was an artist in that sense.
She would also sneak around behind the greenhouse for cigarette breaks. Grandma had been a life-long smoker. She wasn’t supposed to smoke anymore, but she did. We all knew what she was doing when she snuck out, but she acted like she was fooling us all. Somehow, in my entire 46 years with her, I never once smelled smoke on her clothing or in her house. I don’t know how she did it, but she did.
When I made my confirmation in high school, I chose my grandma’s middle name as my confirmation name. I liked the saint it represented, but I also wanted to honor her. I’m not sure if I ever told her that.
My grandparents were married for almost 51 years. Grandma was 18 when they got married. When my grandpa passed away my grandma was absolutely heartbroken. I was with her when he was rushed to the hospital. When she got the call that it wasn’t good, she wailed. I remember her saying she had to get changed before going to the hospital because she wanted to look pretty for grandpa. He was unconscious at the time. It was heartbreaking. Their love was so strong. It was devastating to watch her mourn her soulmate. I hope my husband and I are lucky enough to have such a long, loving relationship like they did. For the next 21 years until her passing, she carried his picture around and talked about him all the time. He was her person, and she never stopped loving him. I also miss him tremendously.
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I am the oldest grandchild, and my firstborn is the first great-grandchild. Grandma decided she was going to be called Nonni by the great grandkids. She had always wanted to be called that but somehow ended up as grandma by default. I think Nonni fits her perfectly. She was thrilled to finally assume that title.
When my grandma moved into a nursing home at 87, I would make it a point to visit her as often as I could. I would bring my dad at first, until it became too much for him. I would also bring my kids. It was very important to me for my kids to have a connection with her, and I wanted them to have memories to look back on. Family is the most important thing to me, and I’m so grateful I had so many years with the generations that came before me. I want to give my kids as much of that experience as I can. We would go visit and update her on everyone’s lives. I had gotten very into genealogy and I had been specifically researching her father’s side as she knew almost nothing about his family. I uncovered over 12 siblings of his and countless relatives, going back generations. I loved sharing new information with her, and she delighted in hearing it.
My grandma got sick with something respiratory. She was quarantined in her room and seemed to be getting better after a week. Then she got worse again. We were told we should go visit just in case. My husband and I went and put on the PPE. My aunt and uncle met us there. I was expecting the worst, but much to our surprise grandma was sitting up in bed chatting. I could tell she wasn’t quite herself, but she seemed like every other time she had been getting over a respiratory illness. It seemed like she was improving. We got to give her one last update about the kids and our family. She was talking about getting her hair done the next day. When we left, we said she either made a surprising recovery or it was the final burst of energy before her passing. Sadly, the latter was the case.
The next day we got the call that she had taken a turn for the worse and to come immediately. I rushed back and spent the day with my aunt, sisters, and cousin. My dad was on the phone and my other sister hopped on a flight home from Hawaii, hoping to make it in time. This time grandma was barely awake. We knew the end was imminent. We took turns talking to her, holding her hand, and singing Mairzy Doats, which my grandpa had always sung when he was alive. She was clutching her rosary beads and the picture of my grandpa that she kept with her at all times. The nurses said she might be holding on until we left, so we all went home, but I know we all wanted to stay. She passed shortly after, at about 8:40 PM. I have no doubt my grandpa was there waiting to escort her to heaven.
The next day was my birthday. It was the weirdest birthday of my life. I was heartbroken about losing my grandma. My friends had already planned a surprise for me, so they showed up with gallons of ice cream, brownies, and every topping you could imagine. We had brownie sundaes for breakfast and I laughed and cried and felt such love and loss in the same heartbeat. I believe that my grandma passed when she did so that her passing would not fall on my birthday. I think that was her final gift to me.
I did a short reading with a psychic medium roughly two months after my grandma passed. She told me my gram was going to send me feathers as a sign. I was skeptical of this but I kept it in the back of my mind.
There have been exactly two instances where I believe my grandma sent feathers in the two years since she has passed away.
The first was almost exactly a year after she went to heaven. My daughter had been thinking a lot about Nonni and asking her to visit her in her dreams. She was sad and thought Nonni hated her because she wasn’t seeing her in her dreams. We went to the beach with her friend one day when she was particularly sad about this. As we stepped out of their RV, there was a giant pile of feathers on the ground. Not just one or two, but a literal pile of feathers right next to us. It was the only spot we saw feathers. We acknowledged it as a message from Nonni and my daughter felt so much better.
The second time was on my birthday this summer, two years after she had passed. I know my grandma passed when she did so she wouldn’t pass on my birthday. I think it’s an honor to share a connection like that with her, but it’s still hard every year. On this particular birthday it was a hard day for a myriad of reasons.
My husband unexpectedly lost his job earlier in the week, I was having issues with my eye, and I was feeling pretty nervous and dejected about everything. I finally gave myself permission to cry about all the things I was scared and sad about – my grandma’s anniversary, the job loss, and my eye issues.
I have a voicemail from my grandma saved from my birthday from the year before she passed. I have made it a tradition to listen to it on my birthday. It’s such a gift to hear her voice and hear her tell me she loves me. This year I listened and cried and let my heart ache.
I got up to blow my nose and dry my eyes. When I came back to my bed, there was a single feather where I had been sitting. Logically I know it came from my pillow, but it was a good 6 inches away from the pillow. I believe in signs and I believe our loved ones never leave us. I know it was her sending her love and letting me know everything would be okay.
I desperately want to hear her voice again. I’m thankful for the saved voicemail, in which she says “hi honey” and “I love you”. That’s something I will treasure forever, but it isn’t the same as having her here with me. I wish I could hug her again. I know we will be reunited in heaven one day, and that makes me so incredibly happy. Until then, I will cherish my memories with her. I will keep telling my kids stories and talking about her with them so that they don’t forget Nonni. She will live on through all of us.
There are so many other amazing things I could share about my grandma. Maybe I’ll write more about her one day. For now, I’ll just say happy birthday in heaven grandma. I hope you and grandpa are dancing and having a delicious meal together with all your loved ones. I miss you so, so much. Until we meet again, I love you.
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