The house across the street from me was where my adopted grandparents lived.
My grandfather passed away in the house surrounded by his wife and 3 children and some of his many grandchildren. He was the most gentlest man I have ever met in my life and was very loved for his good deeds and as well as for his secret stashes of money and expensive coins that were stashed in the nooks and crannies around the house and the $ that was tucked into his bank account.
My grandmother lasted in the house on her own for about 2 years until dementia decided to pay her an unwelcome visit. I would walk to work at the daycare in the mornings. I walked through her front yard and stopped at her front window and waved and blew kisses to her and she back to me. That was my mornings. After work I would stop and check on her and sit and have a cup of tea with her and listen to her stories about times with my grandfather.
My aunt and mom were checking on her through the day and they had to watch her because she would bake something and have the stove on then absentmindedly lay a towel on the stove or an oven mitt. They also had to remove all of the phones because she would call random people in the phone book that she thought she knew and just strike up random conversations with them.
My last time in the house with her was when I walked in to find that she had cook a full meal for two and was in her best pearls and clothes. She called me by my moms name and told me to run home and that my mom was looking for me. She said that she was expecting my grandfather home any time.
I went home and grabbed my mom who went to find my grandmother sitting at the table eating and inquiring when I would be home from work. She didn't remember that I had already been there to see her. My aunt came and moved my grandmother in with her and the house sat empty for years.
My grandmother lasted in the house on her own for about 2 years until dementia decided to pay her an unwelcome visit. I would walk to work at the daycare in the mornings. I walked through her front yard and stopped at her front window and waved and blew kisses to her and she back to me. That was my mornings. After work I would stop and check on her and sit and have a cup of tea with her and listen to her stories about times with my grandfather.
My aunt and mom were checking on her through the day and they had to watch her because she would bake something and have the stove on then absentmindedly lay a towel on the stove or an oven mitt. They also had to remove all of the phones because she would call random people in the phone book that she thought she knew and just strike up random conversations with them.
My last time in the house with her was when I walked in to find that she had cook a full meal for two and was in her best pearls and clothes. She called me by my moms name and told me to run home and that my mom was looking for me. She said that she was expecting my grandfather home any time.
I went home and grabbed my mom who went to find my grandmother sitting at the table eating and inquiring when I would be home from work. She didn't remember that I had already been there to see her. My aunt came and moved my grandmother in with her and the house sat empty for years.
I was going over and checking the mail for my aunt because it was piling up. The house felt so lonely and sad. The junk mail went in recycle and all envelopes went into a pile on the counter for her to sort out later. As I was there sorting I heard footsteps on the stairs coming up from the basement. The door was wide open and no one came up out of the door way.
The only thing in the basement was my grandfather wine collection. Whenever he traveled to Europe he would come home with two bottles of wine and have another case shipped to the US. I continued with the mail and heard the footsteps on the stairs again. I started talking to him, telling how much he was missed and that we loved him. Then I started telling him about grandma and how bad she was getting. I asked him to watch over her and to be ready for when her time to go came.
When my grandmother passed I was still going over and dealing with the mail. The house felt different. Like it used to feel when she was alive. The house always felt homey and comfortable when she was alive.
The house is empty again and I haven't made it over to check on it, but every time I see it I think of my grandparents who took my family in when we moved to NY when we had no where to go and who made sure that even though we were "adopted" grandkids, we were thought of us as their own grandkids and treated as such.
The only thing in the basement was my grandfather wine collection. Whenever he traveled to Europe he would come home with two bottles of wine and have another case shipped to the US. I continued with the mail and heard the footsteps on the stairs again. I started talking to him, telling how much he was missed and that we loved him. Then I started telling him about grandma and how bad she was getting. I asked him to watch over her and to be ready for when her time to go came.
When my grandmother passed I was still going over and dealing with the mail. The house felt different. Like it used to feel when she was alive. The house always felt homey and comfortable when she was alive.
The house is empty again and I haven't made it over to check on it, but every time I see it I think of my grandparents who took my family in when we moved to NY when we had no where to go and who made sure that even though we were "adopted" grandkids, we were thought of us as their own grandkids and treated as such.
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