Before my mother-in-law passed away, she gave each of her children instructions. Her eldest child was to take care of his business and make it a success. Her middle child was to organize everyone and keep them all together as a family. And her youngest child (my husband) was to, and I quote, "procreate."
A few years later, Adam carried out his mother's final wishes for him and we became parents. Following an extremely easy pregnancy, the delivery was riddled with complications. My blood pressure shot into the stroke zone, my platelets dropped, making hemmhoraging to death a real possibility, and my liver began to shut down. Connor arrived five weeks before his due date and, miraculously, he was perfect. No NICU, no breathing trouble, no time in an incubator, nothing. In fact, he was released from the hospital before I was. We were listing to music when he was born and the song that came on the radio immediately following his arrival was a song that I remembered Adam's mom saying was one of her favorites. I've always felt like she was there, in that hospital with us, cheering us on. And I KNOW that if it weren't for her, Connor or I or perhaps both of us wouldn't be here today.
When Connor was three years old, Adam became extremely ill and we were facing the possibility of a pancreatic cancer diagnosis (thank God it wasn't). I can't ever remember being more scared. Not even when Connor was born. Adam is the glue that holds our little family together and the idea of facing this world without him was too much for me to handle. One night, after weeks of watching Adam's condition get progressively worse, I had a dream that Adam's mom pulled into our driveway and got out of her car, just like she had been here a hundred times before. Adam, Connor, and I were so happy to see her and she said, "I'm here to take care of Adam." Ten days later, Adam and I were home from a week at UVA hospital where he received care that quite possibly saved his life.
This morning, Adam and Connor were on their way to soccer when Connor found a pair of my sunglasses and put them on. He said, "Daddy, I can see heaven through these glasses." Adam asked, "Can you see my mom?" Connor said, "Yes. She told me to take care of you." It looks like I'm not the only one whom Gran reaches out to from time to time.
Getting to know Gwynneth was one of the biggest blessings in my life. She was so kind and caring and she loved her children in a way that I can only hope to love Connor. She was alway smiling and never hesitated to give encouragement. She was gracious and dignified, and I'm so thankful that she was a part of my life. And she still is.
