(no subject)
It had been a fast paced 36 hours. I was leaving soon for Waterloo where I had two job interviews so that I would have employment when I moved up at the end of the month. It was mid-April and I was defiant in going but knew struggling against my parents wishes would be useless.
About ten minutes before I left, I overheard a conversation with my mom and dad over the phone. She was leaving work for the day to see my grandmother (her mother) at the hospital. A week ago my mom had to take her to the hospital after my grandpa called her at work, telling her that things weren’t well with her health. My mother had used the words ‘not good’ over the phone but they didn’t shake me. One thing about Bissonnette’s was that no matter how many times they went into a hospital, they always went out. My grandpa was an excellent example of this.
My mom told my dad not to tell me because she didn’t want me to worry while I was being interviewed the next day. But of course, I wasn’t worried.
My dad dropped me off at the bus station where he picked up Stephanie. She was concerned about my grandma’s health and decided that she would take time off of work and come down and see her. I was to stay at her apartment with Jon, her boyfriend and he would come back with me to visit his biological mother who lived in Kingsville.
I won’t go into too much detail about my Waterloo trip other than the fact that I almost lost my ticket home, spent ten minutes trying to get the door open to Stephanie’s apartment and that Jon didn’t get home from work until late.
The next day was a bit better. Jon, being a physical trainer, didn’t have any sugar coated cereal on him so I was forced to down a bowl of something called Weetabix which is probably the poor man’s hay.
My first interview was to be at Wildcraft. I told them that I would have no problem being a dishwasher but deep down inside, something was telling me that I wouldn’t last long at that job and that I would most likely end up quitting.
After that I stopped at the local Chapters just to read for a little while. Then I went back to the apartment where Jon and I ate pizza and watched Curb Your Enthusiasm. It’s an OK show but Jon couldn’t stop laughing.
Next was an interview at A&W. Dull, boring interview and I didn’t even get a call back from them telling me that I didn’t get the job-not that I wanted it in the first place.
After that Jon and I packed up so that we could head back to Essex. After waiting for the bus to get to the station, Jon realized that he had forgotten his ticket back home and quickly biked back. After almost missing the bus back, we were homeward bound-for me anyway-on a bus ride that couldn’t have been any longer or tedious. It was too cramped for me to fall asleep so the only thing I did was read beside a woman flipping through a bridal magazine. Finally we arrived home. From here on is where things became crystal clear yet a few details are sketchy.
Stephanie ran to Jon and hugged him tightly. I turned back towards them and called, “Get a room”, pretending that I was some stranger who didn’t want to see them giving a PDA. My dad was by his Magnum and looked happy to see me, calling me Dude like he usually saw me. “How are you?”
“Dad, can we stop somewhere and get something to eat? I’m starving!” I really was.
“Well, wait till we get home and we’ll fix something up.”
I rode shotgun while Stephanie and Jon sat in the back. I don’t know if they said anything to each other, in fact I can’t remember if my dad and I spoke but I remember we were right outside the club Jason’s (where my friend Aaron’s dad is the general manager) when my became very serious-he might have put his hand on my knee-and said, “Listen…Grandma passed away.”
I felt myself sag into that seat. I turned away from him and looked out at the streets of downtown Windsor, at all the teenagers and yuppies who were partying. A smile formed on my face and I instantly covered my mouth with my hand. I have no idea why the fuck I was doing that at all but I knew that wasn’t the reaction I was having. I was sad beyond belief and yet I was chuckling. Maybe it was a defence mechanism, or something else went off in my mind entirely. And then I remember just being swept over with emotion and finally able to let the tears flow. Stephanie handed me a tissue as she began quietly sniffling.
I listened as my dad spoke. She had died this morning and wasn’t in any pain and that all her children excluding my Uncle Ron (who lived in Quebec) were with her and how proud she was of her grandchildren. He didn’t have to say the last part; I always knew that my grandma was proud of us and how she couldn’t get enough of us. He told me that he and Stephanie had gone to see her yesterday afternoon and when he asked her how she was doing she simply answered, “I’m miserable.”
“That’s OK,” he told her. “You have every right to be miserable.”
I last saw my grandma two days before I left. Me and Annemarie had gone up to the hospital to visit her, bringing a doughnut and coffee for my grandpa-since my grandma wasn’t allowed to eat anything.
Of course this didn’t stop my grandma from looking at the doughnut and gently saying, “Dominick, you give me a bite of that,” and of course my grandpa probably would have even if she didn’t ask him to. So she took a bite and another and then had a sip of his coffee just before the doctor came in to give her a liquid lunch. Other than the jell-o, I can understand why she didn’t eat it much.
I told her that I would be going up to Waterloo in a few days and that I would have to pay her a visit before I left next week.
Just before me and Annemarie left, I kissed her goodbye like I always did and said, “I’ll see you later.”
My dad saw how distraught I was and tried cheering me up by telling me what my uncles were up to, but first by telling me how proud my grandma would have been because her boys were getting along so well. They had gone to the funeral home to pick out a casket and my Uncle Don had suggested one casket because, “It looks like the same material like the chairs in the kitchen and Mom always liked those.”
That earned a chuckle. When I got home, my mom and Annemarie were asleep, so Stephanie, Jon and I made a pizza. As I ate, the reality of the situation had sunk in. My wonderful grandma had died. Following that night were days of mourning, wakes (which could at times be described as a tragic comedy) and a funeral which was held by five priests. Throughout those days I will remember fondly that my grandpa showed such incredible courage.
At least once a day since she’s died, I’ve thought of her and remembered the time we had together. She was the role model for all grandmothers with her kindness, compassion and endless supply of homemade desserts and I hope that I and the rest of her grandchildren can continue to make her proud as we go on with our lives.