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It’s not often that I make personal posts. But somedays, things feel larger than me. Sometimes, I want to share, get thing off my chest and to as many people who will read.
Last Saturday my dad called me to tell me that my Granny (his mother) had died suddenly. She was just talking, having a normal conversation with her caretakers, stopped mid sentence, and died.
I’d never lost a grandparent, and at 23, that’s a pretty good run. I still have a great~gandmother, even! I’d mever been to a funeral, only a couple of services for prayer.
It was hard, very hard, hearing that my Granny had passed. She’d been sick for the past couple years with dementia and various other things. Various illnesses is part of getting old, I know. My Papa took wonderful care of her, he saw her everyday.
I called my Papa after I got off the phone with my dad and it was difficult hearing how upset her was, he’s always been such a cheerful man, strong and such a gentleman. I told him I wouldn’t be able to make it out to the funeral, I was really sorry, but L.A. is so far from Florida and on such short notice…I couldn’t afford it! My PaPa said he understood, just keep the time in mind and pray during the funeral.
I called my Dad back not too long after and he was sounding upset. Really upset. He’d found my Mom on the floor (which explain why she hadn’t answered her phone earlier) and was having to take her to the hospital. Now, my mother going to the ER is nothing new. She suffers from Addisons, Lupus, diabeties, seizures, sjogrens, migraines, arthritus (part of the lupus), and several other thises and thats. She’s been sick for about 4 or 5 years now. So yeah, another ER trip. But it meant that my dad couldn’t make it to the funeral. He was going to miss his mother’s funeral to take care of my mom, something h’d learned from his own father from the way he took care of his mom.
It made me determined to make it to Florida to attend the funeral and represent my dad’s section of the family. I called my Aunt and she set me up with some frequent flier miles and I was set to come.
I stayed in my Granny’s old room the other night. She hadn’t been in there for 3 years, but the room was still heavy with her. She loved sunflowers and shetland sheepdogs and arts and crafts. I think she would have loved a PYO. I know stuff is just stuff, but when I see things I see memories or potential (a grow your own sunflowers kit really knocked me down). I think others feel the same about the belongings of their dearly departed. Just being in the room, where I can still remember her smiling and saying good bye from the last time I visited, already pretty ill.
Seeing some of her stuff and all that she was interested in began a chain of thought that i didn’t really finish til the next day, which was yesterday.
Yesterday was the visitation/viewing. Initially I had no desire to see the body, I’d never seen a corpse in person before and while I don’t mind such things, I didn’t want my last memory of Granny to be her body. Well, I could see her as soon as I walked in. i could see some of her hair and her arms abover the rim of the casket and I wanted to climb a tree.
Instead I walked up the aisle with my Papa, Aunt, and Uncle. There she was. She didn’t look horrible. She looked almost like she was sleeping except she never frowned like that. And she look somehow flat. My Granny was a large lady, jolly for sure. She just looked deflated, but the rest of her was pretty enough. There was make up on her arms that I didn’t care for, it looked gross. Seeing her was as hard as anything yet. She is dead. Gone. With God. My mind was playing tricks and I’d see her finger twitch and more commonly, her chest move like she was breathing. I had the same problem when I put my beloved dog Samson down. He was dead, but i kept thinking he was moving. It’s a subconsious hope, I know. Hope never dies.
The viewing was 3 hours. Over the next 3 hours I met a blur of family and friends of the family. And I listened…
I listened to all the things people were saying. I listened about my Granny’ travels, quirks, sense of humor, her talents and skills, I learned more and more about her that I never ever knew.
My chain of thought came to a completion of sorts. Crap, dude. Why don’t people talk about how awesome someone is before they die? Why does everyone wait until it’s too late? I know that you have to get to know someone on your own, but people were going on and on about things that I never knew, and I spend a lot of time with my Granny and Papa when I was younger, up until about 6 years ago.
It’s been driving me nuts. There are things I want to talk to her about now, only it’s to late. I can’t.
Today was the funeral, again, my first. It was a beautiful sermon, and the procession went to a National cemetary, so it was pretty cool seeing all the guards saluting as we went by. Thanks guys. My PaPa was a Major in the Airforce.
I guess the point of all this, besides needing to write it out AND post it AND share the memory of my Granny, is to say find out, if you can, as muh as you can from the people you care about. I know, I know it’s something everyone always says, and I don’t feel that I am conveying what I mean well enough in writing, but…find out what you can and in turn, tell people you know about how wonderful the people in your life are. I feel inspired by the life of my Granny, now. I love knowing more about her life and what she was like.
I am getting a bunch of her art supplies, I think she’ll be glad to know I am getting them. :3
I’m sorry for your loss vantid. I’m glad you got to go to the funeral, to say goodbye and reconnect to family and friends. You never know when it will be to late. I always say, why do we wait for a tragedy to get together? Do it now, when you think of someone, call them or drop them a note. Sit with your elders and ask questions, get to know them. Thanks for sharing your experience. I hope your mom is ok.
Oh vantid. *Hugs* It’s never easy to lose a grandparent or any other relative. I’m 28, going on 29, and don’t have any grand’s left at all. I’ve also lost an uncle (in 1985) that I still miss terribly. I can’t even remember all the funerals I’ve been too over the years. Way too many that’s for sure.
I’m sure your grandmother would be happy that you are getting some of her art supplies and the inspiration to find out more about the people in your lives.
I’d like to offer condolences as well….I never knew any of my grandparents…
but I lost my mom a few years ago…..and that was probably the hardest thing ever…
I am so sorry, Vantid. Losing any grandparent is tough. My Pawpaw (maternal grandfather) fought in WWII and I never got to hear him tell stories. We lost him when I was 13, long before I was really old enough to appreciate the things your grandparents can tell you. They played Taps at his funeral and I don’t think I’ve ever cried so hard in my life.
Both my father’s parents are gone, and my mother’s mom is the only grandparent I have left, and she’s tired and ready to go too.
Don’t think of sitting and talking about your grandmother as thinking of how awesome she was ‘too late’. You’re reliving memories so you can keep her close to your heart while you wait to meet her again. When my grandma died, we all sat in the front yard like we did when we were little and talked about the things she did for us, and the humorous things she did to others (we found a notebook next to her chair where she kept notes on who came and went at a house across the street she suspected was ‘up to something’).
At first it’s hard, and funerals are exceedingly morbid. I think I want a party when I die, where people can sit and talk and laugh about all the silly things I did as a crotchety old woman, eat good food, be with family and friends and not cry or stare at a body I’m no longer using, and will never use again.
My condolences hon. Try to remember all the silly/fun/cool things she did, and that goodbye is only temporary.
Make cool things with her old art supplies too! 🙂
*hugs*
You know…I know how it feels. I work in a nursing home. I see this happen over and over…and over and over. Its hard. It really is. But truthfully, most of the people I talk to, are ready. They really are. And while that doesn’t really help you, nor does it help at all, it might make you remember that while she may be gone…she must be in a better place.
I am not christian. I believe in rencarnation, but really, no matter what you believe in, she has got to be young again, happy, and thinking of you.
I would use her art supplies to make a portrait of how YOU remember her best.
*hugs*
And just remember, even if she can’t answer, she can hear you. Go ahead…tell her your stories.
I never got to tell my Grandmother I was gay even though I am pretty sure she knew. I live in her old house now…and one day I just decided to tell her. In an empty room…I just went for it. I feel so much better now.I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. My last grand-parent passed away last may at 90 1/2. At least she was alive until the end. I had 2 great grandmothers until I was 17 so the women in the family live LONG. If you need anything you know we are all here for you. Mine knew I was gay and had done drag but just was not ready to see me in drag so that was never done.
I hope it gets easier for you in timeI’m sorry for your loss, Vantid. Thank you for posting your experience, your words remind and inspire me to get to know the ones I love better while I still have the opportunity to do so.
Thank you guys. I hate throwing personal greif upon others, but I wanted to share, I hope you don’t mind.
Whippet, you made me cry again, but in a good way.
I try to remember her smile (cause it was always there) and her old wavery voice, and I know she’d totally kick my butt if she caught me moping.
Vantid, I am so sorry about your grandmother. It is never easy to loose someone you love – and don’t be surprised if weeks from now it suddenly seems like it was just yesterday. Grief can be funny that way. My heart goes out to you and to your dad. It doesn’t matter how old we are – you never feel younger or less able to cope with things than when your mother dies. My prayers and good wishes for your family.
I’ve been to exactly two funerals. One was for a cousin of mine who died in a motorcycle accident when he was abot 23 and the other funeral was for my Opa after he’d been sick on and off for probably 15 years. I felt emotionally removed from both, they were almost surreal, maybe it was the closed casket but at the same time I knew that what was in their caskets wasn’t them so maybe it was for the best.
I don’t know where we go when we leave this place. I have feelings and ideas and all sorts of strange concepts about what comes next. Sometimes I think we go to the Summer Country, where sun and flowers are always close at hand. Sometimes I think we can chose to come back, that we can learn more as we assume a different perspective, maybe even a different species. Sometimes I’m convinced that a part of myself is already somewhere else and maybe someday all my parts will come together again and figure out what I’ve learned. I don’t think any idea or feeling we have about where our loved ones go is false but what I think is more important than that is the fact that love continues on, that love endures and flourishes and takes new forms.
I hear that love in your words, from all the memories and the moments of time that rooms can store. I am sure that love will stay with you, will transmute with time into something that will bring you strength when right now it might feel like its hurting you. Your words are so beautiful and my thoughts and Brightest Blessings are with you *big feathery comfs and croons* And also with your kith and kin! *more hugs*
whippetluv wrote:You know…I know how it feels. I work in a nursing home. I see this happen over and over…and over and over. Its hard. It really is. But truthfully, most of the people I talk to, are ready. They really are. And while that doesn’t really help you, nor does it help at all, it might make you remember that while she may be gone…she must be in a better place.
I am not christian. I believe in rencarnation, but really, no matter what you believe in, she has got to be young again, happy, and thinking of you.
I would use her art supplies to make a portrait of how YOU remember her best.
*hugs*
And just remember, even if she can’t answer, she can hear you. Go ahead…tell her your stories.
I never got to tell my Grandmother I was gay even though I am pretty sure she knew. I live in her old house now…and one day I just decided to tell her. In an empty room…I just went for it. I feel so much better now.*hugs whippet* That was a beautiful post as well!
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