(no subject)
Several deaths occured last year and none of them were easy to handle. Death isn't really something a person does well with, no matter how much time you have to prepare. And certainly the more sudden it is the more difficult it is to process. But I guess there's something a little different when it's your own family, regardless of whether it was long awaited or totally out of the blue. Or maybe that's just me.
I have now experienced the first death in my own family when I'm at an age where I can comprehend the meaning of loss the way a small child simply can't. I knew this day would come eventually, but it was never a close reality. One grandpa died before I was born and the other died when I was four. And I knew that one day everyone else would start dropping off, but since it had been so long since my grandpa passed, I didn't think anyone else actually would.
My two grandmas could not be more different from each other. One drove a blue sports car well into her 60s, drank vodka on the rocks until she was put in a rest home...oh wait, she still drinks it even now. She did smoke though and only quit because the rest home doesn't allow it. She's fiesty and alarming and swears like a sailor. I'll tell ya, that woman's a pistol. My other grandma fits the stereotypical mold of the sweet, nurturing grandmother everyone wants. Although she never did, I could easily picture her sitting in a rocking chair, knitting and baking cookies all at the same time. She had a quirky sense of humor about her, which was not only delightful, but totally unexpected being that she drove a pontiac, took her little old lady neighbors grocery shopping every week, and did Bible study 5 hours a day. Maybe it was the religion or maybe it was just her, but that woman had a heart of gold. She inherited a couple million when my grandpa died and has spent the last fifteen years giving it away. My sister and I have gone to college largely in part to that money. She donates to good causes and gives a healthy sum to everyone in the family at Christmas. She was the glue that held my mom's side of the family together. Who knows what future times will bring with her gone. It hit me a minute ago what I think I"ll miss most. Without fail, each time I left her house I received, "Hayley, I love you no matter what and I'm very proud of you. You're not perfect and you don't have to be." I don't often get that from my parents.
My favorite story about my grandma was one that she told me herself and perfectly depicts the quirky sense of humor no one would ever expect her to have. She was out in her front yard one afternoon and noticed her new neighbor across the street gardening. My grandma knew she had a new neighbor but had never seen the woman. After several months she was beginning to doubt the neighbor actually existed, until this particular afternoon. So my grandma calls out to her and says, "Hello there! I was beginning to worry your were dead!" That's not something you usually joke about in Oakmont. But fortunately the neighbor responded well to it and they had a great conversation. My grandma was getting ready to go back in her house and her neighbor said, "Arden, it was great to meet you and I hope to see more of you!" and my grandma, in true form, responded with, "Well, what would you like me to take off first, my shirt or my pants?"
I have now experienced the first death in my own family when I'm at an age where I can comprehend the meaning of loss the way a small child simply can't. I knew this day would come eventually, but it was never a close reality. One grandpa died before I was born and the other died when I was four. And I knew that one day everyone else would start dropping off, but since it had been so long since my grandpa passed, I didn't think anyone else actually would.
My two grandmas could not be more different from each other. One drove a blue sports car well into her 60s, drank vodka on the rocks until she was put in a rest home...oh wait, she still drinks it even now. She did smoke though and only quit because the rest home doesn't allow it. She's fiesty and alarming and swears like a sailor. I'll tell ya, that woman's a pistol. My other grandma fits the stereotypical mold of the sweet, nurturing grandmother everyone wants. Although she never did, I could easily picture her sitting in a rocking chair, knitting and baking cookies all at the same time. She had a quirky sense of humor about her, which was not only delightful, but totally unexpected being that she drove a pontiac, took her little old lady neighbors grocery shopping every week, and did Bible study 5 hours a day. Maybe it was the religion or maybe it was just her, but that woman had a heart of gold. She inherited a couple million when my grandpa died and has spent the last fifteen years giving it away. My sister and I have gone to college largely in part to that money. She donates to good causes and gives a healthy sum to everyone in the family at Christmas. She was the glue that held my mom's side of the family together. Who knows what future times will bring with her gone. It hit me a minute ago what I think I"ll miss most. Without fail, each time I left her house I received, "Hayley, I love you no matter what and I'm very proud of you. You're not perfect and you don't have to be." I don't often get that from my parents.
My favorite story about my grandma was one that she told me herself and perfectly depicts the quirky sense of humor no one would ever expect her to have. She was out in her front yard one afternoon and noticed her new neighbor across the street gardening. My grandma knew she had a new neighbor but had never seen the woman. After several months she was beginning to doubt the neighbor actually existed, until this particular afternoon. So my grandma calls out to her and says, "Hello there! I was beginning to worry your were dead!" That's not something you usually joke about in Oakmont. But fortunately the neighbor responded well to it and they had a great conversation. My grandma was getting ready to go back in her house and her neighbor said, "Arden, it was great to meet you and I hope to see more of you!" and my grandma, in true form, responded with, "Well, what would you like me to take off first, my shirt or my pants?"