It's been three years since my surrogate grandmother passed away (see here and here). I feel bad that I didn't think of her on the anniversary of her death. I think I said in one of the posts listed above that we'd stopped talking because of how she made me feel about myself. That's still true, in a way. But I've since learned that people can only treat you as bad or good as you let them. So I'm not completely blameless in the whole scenario. What's weird is that the things she would get on me about were the same things she was doing herself (drinking too much, running away from problems). Maybe there was more to it than I realized. But her death was one of the catalysts that led me to examine my life and eventually change my ways. I guess that counts for something, right?
I do think about her a lot though, especially when I look at my daughter because it sucks that they're never going to know each other. And I wish she'd lived long enough to see me get myself together and apply myself to being a good parent (both to the teen and the toddler). She'd get a kick out of me becoming a parent to a teenager first. And I think about what I learned from her. I could go on for pages and pages about the things she taught me, both good and bad, but at the top of the list is this - No matter how bad things are, you just gotta have faith that they're gonna work out in the end. Faith will get you through anything. The second biggest thing I learned from her is that the best things in life aren't things. She never had much but she somehow always had enough to get by. I just wish she'd taken her own advice and kept her faith and realized that she had all she needed at the end. Then maybe it wouldn't have had to be the end.
