Roses

Mary Jean's roses are still thriving. Even without her there to prune them or to defend them from pests, they still thrive. I have to embrace her roses. I have Gabby to remind me of how much I cared about Warren. It was harder with Mary Jean because she was tiring, but was still able to do things. I took my leave of absence, and she fell and broke her hip, had an operation to fix it and was OK, then went to a nursing home to recover, and then she got really tired. I talked to her every Saturday night while I was on leave and she was in the nursing home. I thought it was temporary and I thought I would see her again. She said to me on my last night before my leave "What am I going to do without you here?!" I told her I would still talk to her and the month would be over and I would be back before she knew it. It was 3 weeks and she was gone. She told me the week before she died that she was done. I told her that she was allowed to be done when she was ready. I still didn't expect it. It hasn't even been a year, and every day her absence is really strong. I spent every night visiting with her in her last year, talking, telling stories, building a bond I didn't think was possible between such different people. But she told me that I was like a daughter to her. I don't have that kind of connection with my own grandmothers, but I do with some of the people here. I still feel her. I still feel like she's watching over me.

She was the toughest person I ever met. She lived for years without a pancreas! She had found out about her pancreatic cancer and told them to remove it...they warned her that people cannot live without a pancreas. She did for several years. She chose to live. She chose to die. I think she was ready to live another life in spirit, because her body was broken. She is still here. Still taking special care of her roses.