My grandmother passed this afternoon. She’d been suffering with the aspiration for over a week, so it was a blessing. My uncle was with her at the end. She would have been 90 on Monday.
Hubs and I came up immediately, and we’ve already got the death story memorized as often as we’ve heard it repeated to the steady stream of visitors and callers. And all I can say, is thank God for the death food. Mom didn’t have anything worth eating in the house (not that that’s a change from the norm–I did not inherit my foodie tendencies).
In typical me fashion, in half an hour I managed to pack for three days, remember all of my and my hubs’ funeral attire, get the tea stuff, a full regiment of gluten free foods (see above about nothing to eat in the house, though with said parade of yummy bereavement food, he’s not really interested in his food), and think to pack the big ass bottle of ibuprofen and a giant bottle of water to try and prevent the crying hangover. Call me Miss Prepared.
I’m doing okay. My process is to hold it together, do all the organizing and such and wait until it’s all over, when everyone is gone, and I’m alone and quiet to fall apart. So that’ll be in a few days, after the funeral. And you know, it’s okay. It’s sad, but it’s not tragic. She lived a long, full life and in the end she was suffering, so we were all glad to see that part be over.
So anyway, for the next few days I’m up at Mom’s. And when I get home, I will finally be able to get back into something resembling routine. The other shoe has dropped, and in a bit, life can go on.
I want to thank everyone for their kind thoughts and condolences. When I logged on to Twitter three hours after I made my announcement, it was to find no fewer than a HUNDRED replies. How awesome are all of y’all for that? I love my peeps.
I’m off to make sure everybody eats something.