A Promise Kept

Almost seven years ago, my great-grandmother lay dying in the hospital. My grandmother and my mother kept a constant vigil at her bedside, so she would be surrounded by the love of family when she passed. I loved my great-grandmother dearly, but I was most worried about my grandmother. She had been my great-grandmother’s primary caregiver for almost ten years and the last few months, as my great-grandmother slipped slowly away from us, had been particularly hard on her. I was worried that the bone-wearying fatigue of watching someone you love die would be too hard for her. Late one afternoon, my grandmother and I were sitting in my great-grandmother’s hospital room. My grandmother let out a sigh, the sigh of someone whose body and soul were tired beyond explanation. I went over and took her hand, tears filling my eyes. I asked her to please to take of herself. “Grandmommy, please don’t let this get to you”, I begged. “I want you to be here to dance at my wedding.” She smiled, and her eyes filled as well. “Oh, I’ll be there. And I’m going to be there to rock your babies. I will be here to rock your babies. I promise you that.” I believed her….

My great-grandmother lived only a few more days and my grandmother did what she always does. She moved forward with grace and strength. My sister’s wedding was five days after my great-grandmother died. My grandmother was there, resplendent in red, dancing with my grandfather. She did not dance at my wedding. No one did. Steve & I were married in a Baptist church, so dancing and the fountain of champagne were both out of the question! But, she was there – beautiful and helpful as always. She helped my mother finish bridesmaid dresses after the wedding rehearsal. She blew up balloons before the reception and helped to clean up the hall afterwards.

Six months after Steve & I married, we learned that Gracie was on the way. Few people were as excited as my grandmother. My grandparents live less than a mile from our house – she was finally going to have a great-grandchild that lived closed enough to see on a regular basis. Before we even knew if Gracie was a girl or a boy, my grandmother had crocheted the baby two beautiful heirloom blankets. They were some of the first things that I put in the baby’s room. She was in the ultrasound room with Steve and my mother the day we found out that Gracie was a girl. As soon as the technician finished and I stood up, she handed me a perfectly pink set of crocheted bonnet and booties. She had made a pink set and a blue set and brought both with her. For the next few months, she came by regularly to check on me. She was there for Gracie’s baby shower and to give me hints on how to help my poor, swollen feet.

Ten days before Gracie was born, on a cold Saturday morning, I received a phone call from my grandmother. She was at the hospital. The night before, she had fallen at home and broken her hip. My grandfather was at a remote hunting lodge and was unreachable by cell phone. She hadn’t called me the night before because the weather was miserable and she had been worried that I would trip on the steps up to the house. So, she had managed to crawl, on her broken hip, to the phone to call 911 and then crawl again to the front door to let the emergency workers in the house. I jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes, and raced to the hospital. I held it together until they took her back to surgery. No one had been able to locate my grandfather yet. Steve was still at work. I was alone and I was scared. I was worried for my grandmother. Just then, I felt a tiny kick from Gracie and I remembered my grandmother’s promise. She said she’d be there to rock my babies. I knew she wouldn’t let anything happen to her with Gracie’s arrival so close at hand. That promise gave me some peace that day. My grandfather got to the hospital shortly after surgery began. My grandmother came through the surgery remarkably well. A few days before Gracie arrived, my grandmother was transferred to a rehabilitation clinic.

Gracie came into the world on January 22^nd, born in the same hospital where my grandmother had her hip replaced. When we took the baby home from the hospital, we stopped by the rehab clinic and my grandmother came out in a wheelchair to hold her. I think one of the saddest things in her life was that she was not able to be there when Gracie was born. But, I got the two of them together as quickly as possible! The next few months were rough ones. Gracie had colic and didn’t do well going to visit Grandmommy’s. She’d start to scream when we got in the house and wouldn’t stop until we left. My grandmother wasn’t able to make the trek to my house. Slowly but surely though, winter gave way to spring, my grandmother started to get her strength and mobility back, and Gracie adjusted to life outside of the womb. Before I knew it, Grandmommy was able to make the trip to my house more and more frequently and her relationship with my baby daughter began to grow. My grandmother worked harder than anyone I’ve ever known to get her agility back. She had a goal. She wanted to keep Gracie two days a week when my husband started school in August. She went through months of grueling physical therapy and I’ll never know how much pain just so she could be there for my daughter like she’s always been there for me. When my husband was called up to active duty the first week in August to help with the Florida hurricanes, she was ready. My mom came over and kept Gracie for the first week he was gone. My grandmother kept her the second week. They played the whole week, a bond forming between them that will stay with Gracie her whole life.

When things settled down after the hurricanes and Steve was finally able to start school, Grandmommy watched Gracie while he was in class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This allowed us to postpone putting her in daycare for several months until Steve started school full time. Gracie was happy – she loves to play with my grandmother and my grandfather. I was happy – my baby was home with family for a little while longer. And my grandmother – well, I think she was blissful.

One night in early February, Gracie woke up screaming. She was inconsolable for an hour until we gave her some Tylenol and she fell into a restless sleep. By morning, she was still out of sorts – she didn’t want to be held – she didn’t want to play. I had an important meeting at work. Steve had a test a school. Grandmommy was there at 7:00 a.m. for her Tuesday day care duties. I was distraught. I needed to be at work, but my heart wanted to stay home with my baby. Tears welled up in my eyes and my conflicted roles of employee and mommy raged in my soul. As I picked up the phone to call work and tell them to handle the meeting without me, I looked over and Gracie was curled up in my grandmother’s lap, fast asleep. My grandmother was softly kissing her head and gently rocking her. The promise she had made to me so many years ago had been kept.

This mother’s day weekend, I realize that I come from a long line of promise-keepers. My mother and my grandmother and my great-grandmother before her have always been there for me. My greatest wish as a mother is that I can follow in this long tradition, that one day my daughter will know that when I make a promise to her, I will do whatever I can to keep it. I want her to know that she’s as loved as surely as I know that I am.