Ruby Marie Baldwin

My Grandma, Ruby Marie Baldwin, passed away last night at 7:25 pm. She would have been 80 years old this year. Her birth occurred a few days after the stock market crashed in 1929. How do I know this? I do not know my history, but I was blessed to have the opportunity of sitting with her and recording a little of her life history.

In March of this year, Grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer. The beginning of April, she had her left breast removed along with her left lymph nodes. While she was in the hospital, I spent the evenings with her talking about her life. I knew she wouldn't be on this earth much longer. Chemo and radiation for a 79 year old woman is too much to go through. I just didn't know she would pass away so soon. She is the first out of my two sets of grandparents to go and I never thought it would be her. She was such a stubborn woman.

I believe all of us have a grandparent we are closer to than the rest. That was the case for me with Grandma Baldwin. I have so many memories of time spent with her.

Grandma Baldwin is also the grandparent I resemble the most. If you were ever wondering where my curvy hips and backside came from, think no more. They are from my Grandma Baldwin. My high cheekbones are also a tribute to her as we descend from a Native American tribe. Which one? We'll never know. My grandma asked about it once and was told those are things we do not discuss.

These past two weeks have been a trial. My grandma went into a coma while I was in Arkansas visiting my in-laws. I had to make a decision to stay or fly home early to be by my grandma's side. I chose to stay because I knew my grandma would want me to. I made the right decision. My children now have a stronger bond of love with their grandparents and even cried when we came home. They were making memories of their own with their grandma and grandpa.

On Sunday, we flew home. I went straight from the airport to the hospital to see my grandma. She was on life support and did not look at all like I remembered her. She had tubes everywhere, her hair was gone and she was swollen from all the fluids. But, she was still beautiful to me.

They had run tests earlier in the week and her brain waves showed little activity. This meant the rest of her life was going to be in a hospital bed. The choice was made and she was taken off of life support the night I came home. Amazingly, she started breathing on her own. Grandma was not going to go unless it was on her terms. See . . . stubborn.

I visited my grandma on Monday afternoon and brought her a stuffed puppy dog. When she was in the hospital for her cancer removal, I had taken her a stuffed puppy dog so she would have something to rub and take her worries out on. She and I are also the same with stress. We have to rub something. I didn't know where the first "Worry Dog" was, so I brought her another one. I later found out that the first "Worry Dog" never left her side until she went into the coma.

The last time I saw my grandma was late Tuesday night. I felt I needed to see her one last time. No one was there and it was quiet in her room. The "Worry Dog" still lay under her right hand. This time I brought a heart locket music box she had given me a few years ago. It was hers when she was younger. When you open it, there is a picture of Cary Grant, her heart throb at that age. When you wind the locket, it plays "Memory." An appropiate song.

I love music boxes, a love that was cultivated by my grandma. She gave me my first music box when I was little- a raccoon playing a saxophone to the tune of "If I Could Talk to the Animals." A little while later, she gave me my second music box, one that played "Raindrops on Roses." This is my favorite song. The locket was the final music box she gave me. I still have all three of them.

I held the locket to her ear so she could hear the song and I finally cried and cried. I spent an hour saying my good-byes and left knowing this would be the last time I ever saw her again.

There will be no funeral or viewing. My grandpa doesn't want one and he says my grandma never wanted one either. This is what saddens me. Funerals celebrate the person's life and give the living an opportunity to mourn and remember. None of us will get that now. I have one single thing that I can hold on to and make me happy- the "Worry Dog." The "Worry Dog" is being cremated with my grandma. A little piece of me will always remain with her. That is what I have and will hold on to for always. Thanks for fighting for me Mom.

Thank you to my friends for your support and love during this time. Good friends are hard to find and I am blessed to have a few in my life.

Thank you to my in-laws who were willing to fly me back the instant I gave the word. Your love, understanding and support was amazing and nourished my soul while I was away. Most of all, thank you for giving me the dog my grandma will now have with her forever.

My husband. I love him. He came home and sat with my grandma for me when I couldn't be there. He held me when I cried and is a pillar of strength to me. My life would not be complete without him.

All of these things are what I would have said at my grandma's funeral. Thank you for letting me share them with you.