I got mine!
My grandmother died. Suddenly. I talked to her on the telephone just a few hours before she died. She had just taken a shower and was sitting on her towel on her bed talking to me. She had just eaten a truffle from the box I sent her for Christmas and she sounded like a child as she recounted the truffle's chocolaty goodness. Never mind that she was 95. Or that even though she was afraid, she told me she was ready to die. Or that all her friends had already died and she was the oldest person she knew. Or that her arthritis was so bad she could barely walk so she spent her days sitting in her chair and watching television. She had a schedule: She awoke around 9 a.m. (after sleeping just 4 hours), she watched Regis, she took a bath, she watched The View (you know, the one with that Rosie-the funny gay girl), she ate lunch, she watched her soaps, she took a nap, she ate dinner, she watched sports (any kind would do), she watched Jay Leno and then she read until she fell asleep around 4 or 5 a.m. She was content although she said it was a bit nerve-wracking to wake up every day and not know if this was THE day.
And now she is gone. I feel so sad. I feel broken-hearted. She understood me better than my mother in many ways.I am waiting for her to let me know she is OK wherever she is. She will. Until then, I just want to be sad and quiet and cry. My brother said not to cry because it doesn't help anything. I hate when people say shit like that.
She taught me how to dance. And play games. And play cards. Hearts-how appropriate. In 47 years, I never beat her. At anything. Not even last month when she beat me at Yahtzee.
She is being cremated. No service. No visitation. "Ashes disposed of". No fuss. Her things are being given to Goodwill. All gone. Like she never existed. Move on. "She was ready". I was NOT. So much to do. Christmas is just a few days away.
bah humbug.
And now she is gone. I feel so sad. I feel broken-hearted. She understood me better than my mother in many ways.I am waiting for her to let me know she is OK wherever she is. She will. Until then, I just want to be sad and quiet and cry. My brother said not to cry because it doesn't help anything. I hate when people say shit like that.
She taught me how to dance. And play games. And play cards. Hearts-how appropriate. In 47 years, I never beat her. At anything. Not even last month when she beat me at Yahtzee.
She is being cremated. No service. No visitation. "Ashes disposed of". No fuss. Her things are being given to Goodwill. All gone. Like she never existed. Move on. "She was ready". I was NOT. So much to do. Christmas is just a few days away.
bah humbug.