my gbev.
Gigi
Im sure many of you know my grandma, Beverly Carol Bolduc. Some of you may not, and let me tell you, you’re missing out on one incredible woman.
One of my favorite stories to tell is from when I was in 7th grade. I had been staying with her and grandpa for the week while my parents were on vacation. She wrote me a note to get out of school for the afternoon for ‘an appointment’. Well, she took me out to lunch (we got Dairy Queen in Warren on our way to Grand Forks). When we got to Grand Forks, she said that my appointment was at The Bingo Palace. As a tween, this was so exciting to me, I don’t think there were many times where I was pulled out of school to go have fun without at least an eye appointment or something to do, this was all we were doing, lunch and bingo. We didn’t tell my parents about this until years later, I think I had graduated high school before we told them. Grandma, in her sweet, yet sometimes mischievous silence piped up and said “well it wasn’t a lie, we had an appointment….with bingo”.
For as long as I can remember G-bev and G-Rich have been there, as a craft helper in elementary school, to music concerts, sporting events, musicals that were two hours long where my only role was to come out on stage to play sleeping beauty, asleep lying as a prop during a song. They have been there. They have shown up for everything. I have countless small cards that were once attached to a bouquet of flowers telling me how proud they were of me in whatever activity it was I was taking part in.
Growing up their house was a block and a half down the street. We’d ride our bikes or walk over to say hello, see if they were outside, or to play around on the ceramic deer in the front yard while grandpa was at work (LOL). There was even a short period of time where G-Bev and I were co-workers at the Good Samaritan in Warren. I can say with complete honesty that in my 32 years, I have never met a single soul who did not like my G-Bev.
All of this has a point. This morning I was scrolling through Facebook and I saw this ‘Reel’. It was two grandparents and they are smiling at the camera as they take a selfie-style video of themselves. They are saying:
“You know on those days when you’re just ready to give up. We want you to do one more thing. Just try one more time. One more time, One more time. And, we love you”.
Facebook Reel can be found here.
I immediately started ugly crying. I thought, wow, such love. These grandparents want every child out there that maybe didn’t have a grandma and grandpa like mine, to feel what it’s like to have that. And for me, while I grew up with that, their video emphasized to me just how fortunate and special I am to have that kind of love in my life. How truly lucky I am to have grandparents who are so present.
When I was a teenager, most of my eighth grade year to be exact, I did not take care of my diabetes. I didn’t want it, I didn’t know what long-term repercussions I may face by not taking care of myself. I was going to lie, cheat, and misbehave with the body I was given over and over that year. I’d eat whatever I want, I’d skip my insulin, I wouldn’t test my blood sugar for days, I’d even have my friends test their blood sugar on my machine so it would show a ‘good’ reading. I was in and out of the hospital with Diabetic Ketoacidosis (DKA). This means my blood sugars were so high for so long that my blood was literally turning acidic, making me incredibly sick. I would do this over and over and over again. Through therapy as an adult it I learned that this was a form of self-harm, like cutting yourself, only it was deliberately not treating a chronic illness. One that I needed to treat every minute of every day, or my body would eventually fail me and I could die. I believe I was in and out of the hospital at least once a month my entire 8th grade year. With nobody to blame but myself.
My parents took incredible care of me, and as a parent now myself, I think of them sitting through countless emergency room admits, hospital stays, and ambulance rides truly understanding the terror they were faced with each time. These were instances where I could hardly breathe and was in so much pain from my body shutting down and going into self-preservation mode.
Now, G-Bev has never been one to get upset, she never raised her voice or told us no, really ever, that was grandpas job ;). However; she was tired of somewhat enabling me. She wrote me a note, that I have to this day, as a reminder when I am feeling like I don’t want to try anymore. Like the video of those grandparents, this note reminds me that she may not always speak what’s on her mind, because of the gentle soul she is, but her love is constant. I’ve never shared this note, it has been something i’ve kept for myself. But the video I watched this morning inspired me to share just how important my grandparents are in my life. While my family has other ideas of what made me finally stop the self-sabotage, it was my G-Bev, always.
This note is roughly 20 years old, it has many crinkles in it from moving and being re-read over and over again, but it is still whole, like me. It is for those days when I am ready to give up, but I need to try one more time. One. More. Time.
I definitely do not know what I did to land such an amazing soul as my grandma, but I do know that God knew what he was doing when he assigned me to her.
*one foot in front of the other :)