‘They were my home.’ Telegraph reporter remembers loved ones lost to COVID
Editor’s note: This column is part of the Telegraph’s COVID-19 Memorial Project to honor Middle Georgians killed by the coronavirus. To read more about the project or to participate, click here.
A couple years ago, I introduced Telegraph readers to Gladys and J H “Buddy” Dean through a column about my experience at The Masters.
At the time it was one of my favorite pieces that I had ever written. A chance to showcase what they meant to me and what I meant to them.
That piece has even more meaning to me now as the pair passed away from COVID-19 in January.
The two had been married for 72 years, in that time; they spent hardly any time apart.
They were positioned basically across the hall from one another in the hospital. My granddaddy was wheeled in the room to see her. They held hands one final time. The one silver lining is that they never really lived without one another and are now once again reunited with their son, Ronnie, who died from brain cancer over six years ago.
As a child, my granny used to sing me to sleep every night. Typically she went with Southern gospel hymns from “Victory in Jesus” to “Amazing Grace.” As I held my granny’s hand in her final moments, I sang those songs to her. I gave her one last hug and told her one final time that I loved her. She went peacefully in her sleep.
My granny died and my granddaddy didn’t wait long after to go see his “beautiful wife.” Nine days, to be exact.
I was there beside his bed, this time at home instead of in the hospital, I sang some of his favorite songs to him. He spent much of my youth on a stage singing in various churches around Macon. He died peacefully in his sleep, too.
For me, this was the first time feeling the devastating effects of COVID-19. You hear all the stories of people dying from this terrible virus but never dream it would hit so close to home.
After talking with my editor at The Telegraph, we decided it was time to honor some of those who we have lost to COVID-19 over the last year. Over the next few weeks, I will gather stories from our readers so they can join me in celebrating the lives of the loved ones lost to COVID-19.
I have had a hard time processing my feelings. On one hand, COVID-19 allowed me to move in and take care of them last March as my granny was coming home from the hospital. Not working in the office afforded me that opportunity.
Without COVID-19 there is a chance we would’ve been forced to make the tough call of putting them into an assisted living facility.
But I was able to avoid that when I moved in. It was something that I knew both of them wanted to avoid as well. They enjoyed being in their home that they had spent the last 25 or so years in.
On the other hand, COVID-19 took my grandparents from me and forced me to fulfill a promise that I hoped I would never have to deliver on.
I was an odd child. After attending my first funeral that I can remember I mentioned to my grandparents that I would like to speak at theirs when the time came.
For 26 years, I was blessed to have my great-grandparents in my life. During that time they would ask occasionally if I still planned to speak. I promised that I would each time. And I kept that promise.
I stood up in front of a small number of friends and family as well as an audience on Facebook Live to deliver my remarks and fulfill that promise.
It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It is very difficult to put into words what Gladys and Buddy mean to me. It’s hard to do them justice.
They were arguably the two biggest influences in my life. I give them the credit for the man I have become and often wonder if I am making them proud with the decisions I’ve made.
I sit here writing this column in their living room, one that I have started, erased and started again probably 100 times already.
It’s the house I basically grew up in. I used to lay sprawled out on the floor, reading the Telegraph alongside Buddy. I would run around the house playing with my plastic golf set or action figures that we would get on my weekly trip to KB Toys in the “Old Mall.”
My granny and I were always close. She and I just sat around together for hours just talking. There was almost an unspoken bond between us that everyone knew that she was my favorite person in the world and I was her’s.
Many nights since they have passed I have stayed up at night crying and asking why. I am learning to live without them.
Something I have realized over my 26 years on this earth is that home is not always a building but instead home can truly be where your heart is. My grandparents have always been my home. A place for me to seek shelter during the bad times in my life. They are no longer here and I am living in a world where I feel like I have no home.
I am a huge fan of Taylor Swift. She is my favorite artist and I own all of her albums. One line that has always stuck to me and it is one that brought me great comfort after my dad was murdered in 2017 comes from the song “New Year’s Day.”
“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you.”
This story was originally published March 25, 2021 at 5:00 AM.