do you ever wonder where people go when they die?
A week ago today my great-grandmother, Gram, died in 2001, the year i graduated 8th grade. She actually died the same day that i graduated 8th grade... Thursday, June 14, 2001. She died early that morning and i was informed as i was heading to my graduation practice for the ceremony later that night. I remember breaking into tears during the practice and having to leave, tears being the only escape from the inability to understand what had really happened.
It had all happened so fast... first she's fine over at St. Ann's and i can visit her, you'd never know that she was 89 years old. She talked like she was in her 60's... even better than some i know in their 60's, definitely better than most at her age. She was the most loveable, loving, generous, and affectionate person i'd ever met... i admired her so much. I grew up with her, spending most of my time at her and my grandma's, Nina's, house in Dover. I would sleep over all the time. Gram was always home, even if Nina wasn't, and she talked with me about baseball and got me watching soap operas, fascinated me with Elvis, which inspired me to my award-winning Junior speech on him (and i thank God for the award and that i did a good job because in a way i did it for her...), and taught me every card game i know. I can't express to you how much i loved her, or how much she was loved, because the extent of my love for her was built up for 14 years with endless interactions and conversations. I was beyond heartbroken when she died.
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about Gram. I'm really mad that i didn't ask her more about her life while she was alive. Maybe i was too young to appreciate it, but she was alive during many events and generations that i wish i could learn more about. I wish she could've told me what World War 2 was like... what it was like getting a tv for the first time... how she lived when she was little. She was born in 1911... she lived through a lot. I would've liked to have asked her how she spent her teen years... and how she came to meet Nina's real father, and why she divorced him and remarried. I would've liked to have asked her about her lost son who choked on his ambilical chord... how did that make her feel? I'm sure it was awful, but i would've liked to have heard it from her, just the same. I suppose i can ask Nina a lot of these questions, but it just wouldn't be the same. I wish i could ask BOTH, but i guess i'll have to settle for one.
Lately i've been given the privelege of staying out later than normal, and so often, i drive past the cemetery where she was buried on my way home. As i look out to where she's buried, i can't help but cry. Several times over the past couple of weeks, i've repetitively driven past the cemetery and cried, because she's all alone. I look into the darkness of the cemetery, and i know my fear of it... and i know most people who read this wouldn't be comfortable walking into a cemetery late at night, and i can't even imagine being buried in the dark, in a box, alone. I know she's not alive, i'm not retarded, but it's just sad to think that that's where she is. Her body is under the ground, completely lifeless. How does a body give out like that? How does a body that had once been so full of life, character, personality, humor, smiles, emotions, conversations, interactions... how does a body with all of those things just stop? Just go away? The body doesn't go away, but what about everything else? I guess it was around this time that i started believing in God because I cannot believe that all of those things just disappear. They aren't just gone, they're not just worth nothing. They can't have just done their living here on earth and then just, with a snap of the fingers, go away, never to be seen or heard or felt ever again.
I can't believe that Gram... not her body, but her personality and liveliness... just went away. There's got to be more to it. There's just got to be.
It had all happened so fast... first she's fine over at St. Ann's and i can visit her, you'd never know that she was 89 years old. She talked like she was in her 60's... even better than some i know in their 60's, definitely better than most at her age. She was the most loveable, loving, generous, and affectionate person i'd ever met... i admired her so much. I grew up with her, spending most of my time at her and my grandma's, Nina's, house in Dover. I would sleep over all the time. Gram was always home, even if Nina wasn't, and she talked with me about baseball and got me watching soap operas, fascinated me with Elvis, which inspired me to my award-winning Junior speech on him (and i thank God for the award and that i did a good job because in a way i did it for her...), and taught me every card game i know. I can't express to you how much i loved her, or how much she was loved, because the extent of my love for her was built up for 14 years with endless interactions and conversations. I was beyond heartbroken when she died.
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about Gram. I'm really mad that i didn't ask her more about her life while she was alive. Maybe i was too young to appreciate it, but she was alive during many events and generations that i wish i could learn more about. I wish she could've told me what World War 2 was like... what it was like getting a tv for the first time... how she lived when she was little. She was born in 1911... she lived through a lot. I would've liked to have asked her how she spent her teen years... and how she came to meet Nina's real father, and why she divorced him and remarried. I would've liked to have asked her about her lost son who choked on his ambilical chord... how did that make her feel? I'm sure it was awful, but i would've liked to have heard it from her, just the same. I suppose i can ask Nina a lot of these questions, but it just wouldn't be the same. I wish i could ask BOTH, but i guess i'll have to settle for one.
Lately i've been given the privelege of staying out later than normal, and so often, i drive past the cemetery where she was buried on my way home. As i look out to where she's buried, i can't help but cry. Several times over the past couple of weeks, i've repetitively driven past the cemetery and cried, because she's all alone. I look into the darkness of the cemetery, and i know my fear of it... and i know most people who read this wouldn't be comfortable walking into a cemetery late at night, and i can't even imagine being buried in the dark, in a box, alone. I know she's not alive, i'm not retarded, but it's just sad to think that that's where she is. Her body is under the ground, completely lifeless. How does a body give out like that? How does a body that had once been so full of life, character, personality, humor, smiles, emotions, conversations, interactions... how does a body with all of those things just stop? Just go away? The body doesn't go away, but what about everything else? I guess it was around this time that i started believing in God because I cannot believe that all of those things just disappear. They aren't just gone, they're not just worth nothing. They can't have just done their living here on earth and then just, with a snap of the fingers, go away, never to be seen or heard or felt ever again.
I can't believe that Gram... not her body, but her personality and liveliness... just went away. There's got to be more to it. There's just got to be.