I've been around my grandmother my whole life. From the time I was born to the time I moved away from Alabama right before I turned 6, it was like I never left my grandmother's arms. I mean, of course I left her arms, because I had to go to daycare and preschool, and I had to go home with my mom or dad every night after they got off of work, but other than that, I was inseparable with her.
I was never inseparable with her just because she was my grandmother, but because she was both a savior and a second mother rolled into 1.
Whenever I say that she was my savior, I'm not kidding. From what my mom constantly tells me, was that, whenever I was baby, around 1 or so, my cousin and I were home with my grandmother. Well, my cousin is about 4 years and some months older than me, so he was in kindergarten, but on this one specific day, he had stayed home from school because he was sick. So, it was me, my grandma, and my sick cousin who was up in his room, lying down.
But, somehow, my cousin got hold of matches, and, for some reason, he thought it would be a smart idea to start playing with them. Needless to say, it backfired on him, and he caught the house on fire. Thankfully, my grandma noticed the smell of something burning, and she got both my cousin and I out of the house safely. But, even though we got out safely, that doesn't mean that my mother wasn't hysterical after she found out I was in a "house fire."
So, yeah. My grandmother saved mine, my cousin's, and her own life that day. And I couldn't be more thankful to her for it.
But, y'know, that isn't the only reason that I'm close with my grandma. In fact, I would say that, even though I was only with her for a short amount ever year or so, I was one of the closest to her out of my 6 other cousins. I say one of the closest, because I wasn't the closest, but I was about 2nd in line.
And that's all because of something that happened before I was born.
Later on in life, whenever I would talk on the phone with my grandma, she would always bring up this one story of a dream that she had before I was born.
So, the dream went like this: She would be sitting in a park somewhere, with a little baby girl named Bentley bouncing on her knee, and every person that walked by would walk up to her and say "That's such a beautiful baby! What's her name?" and she would always reply, "Her name is Bentley."
Well, after she woke up from the dream, she called my mom, her youngest daughter of 3, and asked her, "Are you pregnant?" And so my mom, of course, answered, "No, I'm not. Why would you think that I am?" So then, my grandma went on to go tell my mom about the dream, and my mom responded with a, "That's absurd! Even if I was pregnant, why would her first name be Bentley? Her last name would be Bentley."
And then, about a week later, my mom found out that she was pregnant with me. The last grandchild, and second granddaughter in the family.
In all honesty, I think it's kind of crazy that that happened, but I don't doubt for a second that it actually did. I've had something special with my grandma my whole entire life, and I can clearly see that she's had something special with my before my life even started.
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I love my grandma dearly. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about her and miss her so much that it puts me to tears. They say that the heart heals over time, but it's been 8 months since her death, and it still feels like just yesterday that I woke up to the message from my cousin, telling me that she passed away. A part of me went whenever she died, and I don't think I'll ever be the same again.
But, that's okay, because I'm changing for the better. I'm trying to be someone who my grandmother would be proud of. If she could see me now, I'm sure she would be happy.
I love you, G. Rest in peace.
Love, your granddaughter,
Sage Bentley