When she fell in May and broke her hip part of me knew that was the beginning of the end. Although I wish I hadn't let family discord and drama keep me away from her I will forever be grateful for the time I was able to spend with her in her hospital room-just the two of us, holding her hand and telling her that I loved her. I remember her telling me that this wasn't quality of life and she was so upset she couldn't paint or write or do any of the things she loved so much anymore. With tears in my eyes I told her if she felt it was time to go that it was ok. We would all be sad, but we would be ok. Holding her hand and reading her "To Kill A Mockingbird" so she could sleep, and her waking up just long enough for me to hug her and tell her I loved her as I was leaving will forever be one of my most cherished memories.
As much as I will miss my spitfire piss and vinegar Grandmother all I can think of is now she is free of the body that has limited her for so long; for that I am relieved and grateful.
While I am sad I haven't shed a tear and can only be relieved that my grandmother's illness (a huge source of family drama and contention) is now gone I can't help but wonder if feeling these things make me heartless?
To be honest I am hurting more watching my father grieve the loss of his mother.
I can't help but think back to seven years ago when my family lost my Uncle Gregg and how different that grieving process was. It was completely out of nowhere and struck me so deep to my core I had to leave work that day as all I could do was sit at my desk and cry, and I still have a hard time speaking about him without shedding tears. This time I had time to prepare and I knew why my dad was calling before I even picked up the phone, and I was able to finish my work day undistracted. I am able to speak about her with happiness and fondness. There are no tears to be had here.
That may change on Friday when I see her sleeping one last time, but for right now all I can think is that I am so happy she is free.
