Two years ago, I celebrated my Babcia's birthday for the last time. In March of 2011, she would pass away after months of suffering from cancer.
My Babcia lived with me for 19 years. She came over from Poland a few months after I was born to help my Mom out with the new baby. She was supposed to go back to Poland once my Mom could handle things on her own, but she never did leave. I guess 5-month-old-me stole her heart away and made it impossible for her to return.
I'm so grateful to have been raised by this woman. She taught me how to read, write, and love. She passed down her intellectual hunger and philosophizing to me. She would make me supper every day and greet me on the porch when I came home from school. She would braid my hair in the mornings. Whenever I was sick or in pain, she always said "If I could, I would take the pain and suffer for you." She loved all of my friends even though she couldn't communicate with them in perfect English. She made the best crepes.
I think of her everyday. Losing her was the most painful thing I've experienced. But I know that wherever she is, she is happier, pain-free, and most definitely reading one book or another.
