Things just happen some times
For those who haven't heard. My grandmother has been in the hospital dying from terminal cancer for the last two weeks. I went to see her one day, last week. She was gone. Sleeping with an occasional whimper of pain despite all the morphine. She was ragged and I barely recognized her. Once or twice She woke up with a vacant look in her eyes. I wanted to say so much but all I was able to manage was "Hi grandma". I repeated this again later, unable to express myself other than the two words. Before I left. I managed to say goodbye and that I'd see her later. I didn't.I fought back tears and emotionally distanced myself from the situation. It was the same with my grandfather. I didn't allow the tears to come out. My eyes felt like levees about to break. I just stood there half in shock, watching.
We have been cleaning out the house she shared with my grandfather. I never knew she was such a pack rat. 8 boxes of various pine cones. 300 unused mason jars. Empty beer bottles from the 70's. Magazines from the 60's bundled in twine. Eventually we got to the possessions. I grabbed some paintings, a couch and TV. It felt wrong. She was still alive. We did it anyway. We were preparing for the inevitable. I saved the personal things for last. A stapler and an old chair from my grandfathers office that I have memories of. Some incense burners and bells from my grandmothers hobby room. After going through everything I found a gift someone had given them. It was a music box like item commemorating their 50th anniversary.
During this time, she was still perpetually dying in the hospital. Ive been expecting a call from my family, every hour of every day, with the news of her passing. Each time my phone rang, I felt a pit in my stomach. Today I finally got the call I was expecting, a quarter after 7 at night on Sunday 2/15/09. My grandmother left to rejoin my grandfather after 5 years.
My dad called me. There was not crying, No dramatics.
"Hello"
"We just got the word your grandmother died a half-hour ago."
"Thanks"
That was it. The whole conversation could of been about mail, waiting to be picked up the next time I swung by. It wasn't though. I guess this is how I deal with stuff.
I decided to do a redecorating binge. Clean up my apartment and arrange the items I took from my grandparents house. The activity felt good, I was listening to punk rock. I was working off the last of a hangover I had from drinking away valentines day with some female co-workers. The punk music was interrupted by a giveaway and now I have tickets to see the Dropkick Murphys. Life is fun sometimes, but mostly its filled with sorrow. Or at least that the way it seems right now.
We have been cleaning out the house she shared with my grandfather. I never knew she was such a pack rat. 8 boxes of various pine cones. 300 unused mason jars. Empty beer bottles from the 70's. Magazines from the 60's bundled in twine. Eventually we got to the possessions. I grabbed some paintings, a couch and TV. It felt wrong. She was still alive. We did it anyway. We were preparing for the inevitable. I saved the personal things for last. A stapler and an old chair from my grandfathers office that I have memories of. Some incense burners and bells from my grandmothers hobby room. After going through everything I found a gift someone had given them. It was a music box like item commemorating their 50th anniversary.
During this time, she was still perpetually dying in the hospital. Ive been expecting a call from my family, every hour of every day, with the news of her passing. Each time my phone rang, I felt a pit in my stomach. Today I finally got the call I was expecting, a quarter after 7 at night on Sunday 2/15/09. My grandmother left to rejoin my grandfather after 5 years.
My dad called me. There was not crying, No dramatics.
"Hello"
"We just got the word your grandmother died a half-hour ago."
"Thanks"
That was it. The whole conversation could of been about mail, waiting to be picked up the next time I swung by. It wasn't though. I guess this is how I deal with stuff.
I decided to do a redecorating binge. Clean up my apartment and arrange the items I took from my grandparents house. The activity felt good, I was listening to punk rock. I was working off the last of a hangover I had from drinking away valentines day with some female co-workers. The punk music was interrupted by a giveaway and now I have tickets to see the Dropkick Murphys. Life is fun sometimes, but mostly its filled with sorrow. Or at least that the way it seems right now.