April 3, 2009 my grandmother passed away. The loss was devastating and left me feeling vulnerable and exposed, and just not ready to blog. Sorry for the silence.
In early March she was hospitalized, and through some difficult series of events, came home to live out her remaining time where she felt comfortable. It was a choice that she made. She knew that by coming home, she was refusing the treatments that would extend her life. She chose quality over quantity. A choice that for me was incredibly difficult to understand initially, but I knew I was being selfish and that I wasn't ready to let her go. So, we knew that she would maybe only had a month or two at best. We knew rationally that every time we said good-bye it could be the last. But, rational thinking is hard is circumstances like this. So, every time we saw her (and we saw her as often as we could) we told her how much we loved her and how much she meant to us every time. Most visits would end with tears, but tears that were filled with love. Her final days were filled with visits from friends, family, all of her children, grandchildren and great-grand children. She was never alone. She was loved.
But, the most difficult part was that I knew that the girls would feel the sting of this loss too. They weren't in my life when I lost my grandfather 5 years ago, so that pain I took on alone. This time they were involved. They had an incredible relationship with their great-grandma and adored her-Makenna especially. It was sweet and amazing to witness. She loved them unconditionally and exceptionally. She loved all in that manner. The girls were among the last ones who spoke to her before she passed. She had been sleeping all morning and heard them come into the room and woke up. They got to kiss her, say they loved her and hear her say that she loved them too. It was heartbreaking, but I was so glad they got to have that with her.
So, a heavy heart was holding me down. Just last week the fog finally cleared when Ron and I got away for a few days and had a much needed reprieve. Time heals, even though you never forget. I will miss her every day of my life, but have a faith that holds out the hope of seeing her again. Better days will come!
