Remembering Mary Sullivan Roberts, 3/2/23-11/4/09

my grandparents on their wedding day

Grandma, Katie, and me, Christmas 2007

four generations of feisty women

Grandma and super-pregnant me at my baby shower for Katie

Grandma with several of her desendents (l-r: Katie, my mom, my brother Daniel, my dad, me, and my brother Mike)

My grandma died last night. Her health and memory had been quickly declining for two years, so it's not much of a surprise. Recently she was only a shell of the woman I had known and loved. I miss her, but I've BEEN missing her as I've lost more and more of her over time.

I'm lucky in that I've lived almost my entire life within thirty minutes of my dad's parents. Even so, I didn't see them extremely often growing up. We saw them for every major holiday and birthday -- usually a formal fancy dinner at their house or a nice seafood restaurant. We also spent many of our Independence Days over there -- most notable because my grandfather would allow us to shoot off (illegal) firecrackers in his backyard while my mother hid inside, trying not to imagine the potential consequences.

My grandparents were extremely generous, but always a little bit distant emotionally. Still, my grandmother's love for me was demonstrated on a few very memorable occasions.

The first was in the mid-80s. Christmas was approaching, and I was one of the millions of little girls who was desperate for a Cabbage Patch Kid. My other grandma, being the practical and blunt one, thought the best solution was to pop my bubble. I still remember her hissing to me over the phone, "They're UGLY! UGLY!!" as she tried to convince me I didn't want one after all. But not Grandma Roberts. Grandma Roberts somehow managed, against all odds, to get me a Cabbage Patch Kid for Christmas that year. It's the Christmas present I will always remember best. And I've always imagined my frail little grandma getting into fistfights with other moms and grandmas as they battled for the only Cabbage Patch Kids at the toystore. She denied that was the case, but I enjoy my grandma fistfight memory and have decided to hold onto it. :-)

The second time I knew how much Grandma loved me was when I was trying to explain to my grandpa that I wanted to be a missionary overseas. He was very unhappy with this idea and was trying to talk me out of it. ("How about the Humane Society? They always need help.") Grandma couldn't have been thrilled with the idea of me spending my life on the other end of the world, and she wasn't especially fond of missionaries in general, but for her my happiness was the important thing, and she let my grandpa know this in no uncertain terms. "LEAVE HER ALONE, BILL! Whatever Jennifer wants to do, let her do."

When my grandpa died just over five years ago, we all grieved his passing. But the sad event also had a silver lining. Now that Grandma was all alone, I started spending a lot more time with her. On days when I was "working from home," we'd go to lunch together. I took her to some of her doctor's appointments. We started building a friendship we'd never really had before. (With five kids in my family, it was hard for any of us to get much one-on-one time with any of our grandparents.)

And then I started having kids. Within hours of Katie's birth, my grandma was sitting by my bedside holding her great-granddaughter.

Shortly thereafter, my grandma's health began to decline and she needed to move into assisted living. For several weeks Katie and I went to see her every other day, and for months after that we visited weekly. Grandma loved seeing Katie grow, and Katie enjoyed showing Grandma her toys and books, and as she got older she would "perform" for Grandma, demonstrating the new words and songs she was learning.

Once, when Katie was only ten months old and asleep in her stroller, Grandma started reminiscing about her courtship with my Grandpa, and about their marriage and early life together. I am so glad I pulled out my camera, because I got to record fourteen minutes of my Grandma and Grandpa's love story.

Seven months ago, Joshua started coming along on our visits too. Although Grandma wouldn't remember us much from visit to visit, she was always happy to see the kids.

Last week I decided to go visit Grandma. It had been several months since I'd last seen her, and even though my grandma's mind wasn't all there anymore, I missed her. So even though Joshua was in desperate need of a nap, I threw the kids in the car and headed to the nursing home for a short visit with Grandma. I'm so glad I did. It was a very special visit and it ended up being the last time we would see her alive. Katie said "Great-Grandma" for the first time, which charmed Grandma's socks off. And whenever my mom wheeled my Grandma down the hall, Katie would take my Grandma's hand in hers and "help" her. It was so sweet watching them go down the hall hand in hand that I took a photo of it. As far as I know, it's the last photo ever taken of my grandma.


What a way to leave -- hand in hand with your great-granddaughter. I hope and pray that Grandma will be walking hand-in-hand with Jesus for eternity.