Page 34 - 2016 Spring-Summer Issue
P. 34

© Dasha Petrenko/fotolia.com

A Grandparent’s New Normal

by Jessi Winkler                                              unconscious immediately, and breaking her neck. No, she
                                                              hadn’t been in any pain. No, she didn’t suffer at all. They
I’ve always heard there are moments that divide your life     were airlifting her mother to Savannah because her injuries
into two times: before and after. The day JFK was shot. The   were too extensive for their hospital. No, she didn’t know
day the Twin Towers fell.                                     that her daughter was gone. I wanted all the details, to
                                                              know exactly what had happened to steal my grandbaby
For me, that day was September 12, 2014. The day my           away from me, but I also wanted him to just shut up, to stop
granddaughter died.                                           saying those words…to stop making it real.

Everything I was, and everything that made me, was            I walked through the next week like a zombie, my skin cold
shattered that afternoon. Swept away in one moment in         and numb. I felt as if I had taken drugs or drank myself
a small room off of the ER as the doctor tilted his head,     into a stupor, but it was just the shock of grief. I kept telling
clasped his hands together, looked me in the eye, and said    myself that it would get better once we got past the funeral,
softly, “We did everything we could, but I’m sorry. The baby  once we were able to put Paisley and her mother to rest, and
didn’t make it.”                                              learn how to live without them.

A wail rose in the room as his words hit home for all of us.  Once again, I was wrong.
Another grandmother fell to her knees. Her aunt folded in.
I sat there, my entire body numb, and heard his words shout   The day after the funeral I was filled with so much rage
in my head over and over again until I fell forward and       that I sat in the back pew at church with my hand clenched
pressed my face into my hands to try and block it out.        in a fist, rapping it against my thigh. I wanted to break
                                                              something, to hurt somebody, to do anything to funnel off
The baby didn’t make it.

He gave us the details then; that the force of the impact
had slammed her head into her car seat, knocking her

3 4 |We Need Not Walk Alone
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