Listening to: N/A
It's been 3 weeks to the day since my grandmother passed on. God, when you say it like that, it seems like yesterday. It actually feels like an eternity. I still feel numb, and I am not sure if I really comprehend that she is gone. I still feel sometimes when we go to her house (my mom is executor of the will) she'll come walking down the hall and say "Hi Sweetie! Are you hungry?" I apologize for not telling everyone sooner but I haven't been up to it. It's taken me a long time to be able to talk about it and not break down and cry.
She was 89 years old and battling cancer. About 8 years ago she had colon cancer and they thought when she had surgery they got all of it. Well, they didn't. In May, they told us she had Liver Cancer and it had metastasized her whole liver. Being so old and frail she couldn't go through chemo or radiation, so we knew then that it was a death sentence. I remember vividly when my mom asked her what she wanted (this was before cancer), she said " I want to live until 90 and have a big party with all my family/friends and get my picture in the paper (they put your picture in the paper when you turn 90+)." Well, Grandma, I am so sorry you didn't get that wish.
I only regret one thing; not spending the last weekend she had on earth with her. I spent the weekend before with her, but the weekend before she died I just wanted some rest. The weekend before that I was there from Thursday night til Monday morning. My primary job while there was to keep her company and help her in and out of bed to the toilet with the help of my mom because she couldn't walk at this point. By the end of the weekend I ached all over and just wanted some sleep. So I decided to take a break that next weekend because I was worn out. I didn't know that that decision would come back to haunt me.
On Monday, July 19th I got a call that my grandmother was in a coma and they had given her 24 hours. By this time she was on a breathing machine and dying. I was confused because I had talked to my mom the night before (she stayed some nights with her) and she had been fine. I went that day and said goodbye to her. Then on July 20th between 5:30 and 6:30 am, she died.
How am I? I can sum it up fully with lyrics from a song that keeps playing over and over in my mind when I really let myself feel the pain:
Just Feel Better By: Carlos Santana
Tell me what to do
You know I can't see through
The haze around me
And I'll do anything to
just feel better
I can't find my way
God I need a change
And I'll do anything to
just feel better
Any little thing to just feel better
It's kind of strange. I put out a deviation called "Oreo Happiness For Friends" on the Friday before she died. I dedicated it to all my friends who were having a hard time. Little did I know that I would be the one who would need that the most. The one thing that brings me the most comfort is a little narrative that my family found for her funeral.
A Reflection on Death By: Henry Van Dyke
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: "Here she comes!"
And that is dying.
I don't know when I will be back to put things on my account. I do have a crap load of pictures on my camera, but I just don't have the heart or want to put them up. Sorry...