It is a lot easier for me to write about things once I have a certain amount of distance between me and the subject, but this time around I thought I might talk to you all for a minute. Now I don’t want anyone writing to me about it, or calling me, or anything like that. That’s not why I write. I don’t need people to assure me that things will be all right with the world because, to quote my friend Jimmy (there are two now!), “that’s not the way I roll.” So, the moral of the story is, don’t write to me about this Blog because I won’t respond.

That being said, I wanted to tell you all about my grandmother. Ardelle Lillian McLean, or as we all call her, Nonnie (“nonni” means grandparents in Italian, so “Nonnie” is some sort of derivative of that) has always been in my life. Since shortly after my 7th birthday, she even lived only a block away from me. Nonnie’s the kind of woman who is always prim and proper when the situation calls for manners, but whispers naughty things behind her napkin to you. She taught me to chew my food twenty times per mouthful (that lesson never took), to hug and kiss people I just met, and to always exclaim “What pretty wrapping paper!” whenever I receive a present of some sort. She likes to pinch people’s bottoms (or, “pinch their coolies” as she says), whether she’s just met them or even if she’s known them for years. Whenever I would visit, I would be forced to eat all the leftovers in the refrigerator and, if she didn’t have any cash on hand, she would send me home with a ziplock baggie of change. She taught me how to shellac plastic eggs that we’d decorated, and how to make the best gosh-darn artichokes you’ve ever had. I raked her leaves in the Fall, shoveled her walkway in the Winter, watched her weed her garden in the Spring, and had her over to our swimming pool in the Summer. Danny and I used to go over her house just to watch cable, which we never had when we were kids. Nonnie’s house is where I first saw MTV, watched Batman (Kapow! Bang! Pop!), and snuck candy out of my grandparent’s private stash. Before I had braces, Nonnie helped me learn to stop sucking my fingers by giving me gold stars for each day I didn’t stick them in my mouth. We spent many summer days at Salisbury Beach, and she was always bringing me out on the town for a new adventure. Everything was “simply mah-velous” or wonderful to her. She was inspired by all the beautiful things in the world and loved to travel. Everyone I know – and even people I don’t – adores my Nonnie.

Things aren’t the same anymore. Last Monday I took the train to Massachusetts to visit my mom and my Nonnie. Nonnie is sick with leukemia and she’s dying. For the past two weeks or so she’s been wonderfully assisted by hospice care, but for a long time my mom has been over there every day taking care of the little things: bathing her, assisting her when she needs to relieve herself, helping Grampie feed her and give her medicine. Mom has also been dealing with the many friends and relatives who wish to visit or call or send packages or whatever. It’s been a very difficult time for her and Grampie, and it really hits me when I go home. There are days when my grandmother seems well, and days when she is exhausted. She’s usually in pain, and she often can’t remember if one of her good friends visited her the day before.

I know that many of you have lost people you’ve cared about, but I don’t know how many of you have had to go through the long, drawn-out, painful process of watching someone die over a matter of days, months, years…whatever length of time. My friend Starr recently went through this, as she was her grandmother’s primary caregiver, but we’ve never really discussed it.

In any case, it’s been a very painful process even for me, as someone who doesn’t have to take care of all the everyday minutiae as Mom and Grampie do. I visited Nonnie on the Tuesday before Christmas, for a little over two hours. It was the first time I had been home in months. My grandmother used to be a fairly sizeable woman; she is now little more than a human skeleton. She can hardly even move on her own.

I brought her some Christmas presents she may never even get to enjoy – a Dr. Seuss book that my mom promised to read to her, and a box of chocolates so Nonnie could indulge a little. While I was there, we didn’t talk about anything important. Mom, Grampie and I just kept up a conversation so Nonnie would know we were there. It was a bad day; she was tired and in pain. I helped Mom give her some Morphine to help with that.

The most difficult thing for me was being left alone with her. It makes her so tired to talk, so the onus was on me to make conversation, but what do you do? I felt so helpless. There is nothing I can do that will make her any better. I don’t even know how to arrange her on the bed so she is most comfortable.

The best I could do was be there to show her I love her.

I guess in a way it makes me realize how important the holidays have always been to me. To be able to see all the friends and family I don’t always see due to time and distance – even if we don’t always like each other. To buy my loved ones little gifts, and remember their birthdays, and celebrate important events – I enjoy doing the small things to show that I love them.

This Christmas season I think I did a lot more than I intended, and I know that I am thankful for the time I was able to spend with family and friends. I seem to have enjoyed this season more than most and been truly rewarded with happy moments to remember for always.

So I thank you Mom, Grampie, Nonnie, Vincent, Grampie Trap, Danny, Corinne, Susan and Joe, Aunt Barbara and Uncle Jim, Vince Sr., Jane, Allie and friends, Aunt June and Uncle Tony, Cousins Bruno and Nick and Jimmy, Nicole and Christian, Grandmom and Grandpop, Ruth and Mitchell, Blake and Chad, Annie and Jerry, Uncle Kenny, Aunt Kathy, my other Aunty Kathy, Corinne, Jimmy, Tom, Garland, Jaeson, Lisa, Aaron, Eric, Starr and Kathryn… and anyone else who spent any time over the holidays with me.

It was a wonderful (if not busy) time and I love you all.