(no subject)
I got a call from my daddy this morning to tell me that my grandmother had passed away during the (our) night. She was the last on my grandparents alive and would have been 91 this coming Sunday. We've been expecting this for a little while now, well, 3 years nearly, and the phone had woken me up so I was pretty numb to the news. Then I was talking to mom a bit ago and she gave me the little details that we have.
Granny has been in a nursing home for 3 or 4 years now and has been steadily loosing everything. Her sight. Her mobiltiy. Her temper. Ha! She always lost her temper. Fiesty fiesty woman my grandmother was! The past year or so though, she didn't leave her bed or talk much to anyone. Apparently she'd been perking up lately, asking to pet the home's cat (huge on cats my granny, just like me) but her breathing was failing. My uncle is the only one of her children in Ireland so he was informed but as I said before, this has been years coming so it wasn't much to leap about over. Then yesterday, my uncle home under the weather and babysitting his granddaughter, got a call from the nursing home that things didn't look so good. So he walked the dog up to the home (this is Belfast we're talking about, nothing is all that far apart!) and went to see her. Her heart, which despite a life time of smoking and Irish Fries was healthier than most people 20 years younger, was finally giving in. Uncle Rob sat with her, told her we all loved her and that it was okay. She squeezed his hand and was gone. Just like that. No fight, no curses, just gone.
Once I was off the phone with mom I cried. I cried mostly for my uncle because his dad died after he came to Canada, saying that now he could go. He'd seen all his kids one last time. I cried because I'll miss her though I haven't been able to have a conversation with her in ages. I don't like looking at the photos of her in recent years because that's not my granny. That husk of a person with short grey hair and drawn face is not who I lived with for a summer after high school.
My granny will always be the only woman in my family I could look dead in the eye because we were of equal height. The woman with a curly brown crown of hair with a mischiveous look in glint in her eye as she gave me a wack for trying to do the dishes. The woman who loved cats as dearly as me and laughed at the tiny little monkies on tv which she managed to glimpse out of her failing eyes. The woman who was fiesty and wouldn't back down from anything in an era were women were supposed to be soft and quiet.
My granny Freda lived a long life, almost 91 years, and a tough one. She had a child die when he was only 18 months old and another eatten apart by diabetes. She lived on the other side of the ocean from her husband and four of her 5 surving children because she hated it in Canada as much as everyone else loved it. She lived in the same house from she was in her mid20s until a few years ago when she had to go into a nursing home. She'd walk the most dangerous roads in Belfast because that was were her friends lived and fuck anyone who tried to accost her. She lived in Mount Vernon, one of N. Irelands political hot spots, all her life because that was her home and nothing would make her move. Fiesty, stubborn, proud and strong.
Rest at peace Granny. i love you and i miss you. I hope your reunion with Mr. Tibbs and your family members is a joyous one. But please, don't smack granda too hard for going first.
Granny has been in a nursing home for 3 or 4 years now and has been steadily loosing everything. Her sight. Her mobiltiy. Her temper. Ha! She always lost her temper. Fiesty fiesty woman my grandmother was! The past year or so though, she didn't leave her bed or talk much to anyone. Apparently she'd been perking up lately, asking to pet the home's cat (huge on cats my granny, just like me) but her breathing was failing. My uncle is the only one of her children in Ireland so he was informed but as I said before, this has been years coming so it wasn't much to leap about over. Then yesterday, my uncle home under the weather and babysitting his granddaughter, got a call from the nursing home that things didn't look so good. So he walked the dog up to the home (this is Belfast we're talking about, nothing is all that far apart!) and went to see her. Her heart, which despite a life time of smoking and Irish Fries was healthier than most people 20 years younger, was finally giving in. Uncle Rob sat with her, told her we all loved her and that it was okay. She squeezed his hand and was gone. Just like that. No fight, no curses, just gone.
Once I was off the phone with mom I cried. I cried mostly for my uncle because his dad died after he came to Canada, saying that now he could go. He'd seen all his kids one last time. I cried because I'll miss her though I haven't been able to have a conversation with her in ages. I don't like looking at the photos of her in recent years because that's not my granny. That husk of a person with short grey hair and drawn face is not who I lived with for a summer after high school.
My granny will always be the only woman in my family I could look dead in the eye because we were of equal height. The woman with a curly brown crown of hair with a mischiveous look in glint in her eye as she gave me a wack for trying to do the dishes. The woman who loved cats as dearly as me and laughed at the tiny little monkies on tv which she managed to glimpse out of her failing eyes. The woman who was fiesty and wouldn't back down from anything in an era were women were supposed to be soft and quiet.
My granny Freda lived a long life, almost 91 years, and a tough one. She had a child die when he was only 18 months old and another eatten apart by diabetes. She lived on the other side of the ocean from her husband and four of her 5 surving children because she hated it in Canada as much as everyone else loved it. She lived in the same house from she was in her mid20s until a few years ago when she had to go into a nursing home. She'd walk the most dangerous roads in Belfast because that was were her friends lived and fuck anyone who tried to accost her. She lived in Mount Vernon, one of N. Irelands political hot spots, all her life because that was her home and nothing would make her move. Fiesty, stubborn, proud and strong.
Rest at peace Granny. i love you and i miss you. I hope your reunion with Mr. Tibbs and your family members is a joyous one. But please, don't smack granda too hard for going first.