September isn’t a good month for me. Last year, on September 15, Andrew and I laid to rest our dog Casey. She was our child since there aren’t any children in the McBailey household just yet. I blogged about it last year on my other blog that I’ve since abadnoned, so I won’t rehash it here – though I’m sure one day I’ll have to break down and give it a whirl again. This year, on September 14, my grandmother, “Hema,” went to be with the Good Lord. She was 92 years old, but didn’t look a day over 75. She was probably the coolest grandmother ever. She had blonde hair, wore Chanel sunglasses, drove a BMW, and shopped until she dropped. She loved wine, her family, and above all else God. She was one of the happiest spirits you’d ever meet.
But, over the past year things had just not gone right for my grandmother. Really though, when your 92 does anything go right? That being said, I will say that I didn’t do enough. I didn’t visit her enough. I didn’t call her enough. I didn’t write her enough. I didn’t do enough. And tonight, I’m headed to her viewing to thank people I’ve never met for being there to send her off. All the while, I’m left knowing I didn’t do enough.
See, we all live very busy lives, don’t we? We have jobs, spouses, children, friends, things to do, places to see, people to entertain. We forget those who live in a much smaller world. A world where you don’t use computers, you don’t have long distance, you don’t have a cell phone, you don’t drive, you don’t have cable, you read magazines to pass the time, and you live alone. One where all of your friends and family have passed on, and you are still here. And, we forget. Or maybe I just forgot.
I know I’m being hard on myself and I know the cut is deep right now and it will begin to heal in time. But friends, please do more. Please visit more, please call more, please write more. Please do more. Because one day, you won’t be able to do any of those things, and like me, you may never forgive yourself…