I buried my grandmother today. As I look at the time, I realize it has been exactly a week since she collapsed. An agonizing slow week, in which one by one each and every organ in her body failed and yet throughout she remained lucid, chirpy and hopeful.
She is buried now beneath the cold, black earth. She never much liked the dark, always slept with a nightlight on. And yet I have left her in the dark; I who she raised when my parents were posted overseas and for whom there was always a prayer, an open ear on whatever the silly issue I had and unconditional love.
I’ll never again be able to peak into in her room by the stairs as I come home from work and see her in prayer, reading or watching TV, simple yet reassuring things. I will never be embarrassed again by her such as this last week in the hospital when she was less interested in what the doctors were saying, more in stating; “this is my grandson, he is a Barrister”. I will never again have to try and deduce which perfume she may like when buying presents for her overseas.
About six months before his death, my grandfather suffered a fall, and he was hospitalized for several months. I had been home for the summer doing an internship, and would visit him each day. I was in the hall outside his room, waiting for his nurse to finish helping him with something, when I overheard him say, “That’s my grandson. He’s going to be an attorney. He’s in his 2nd year of law school.” My grandfather had always been a man of few words, but I could hear the pride in his voice. We never talked about it, but to this day it is a reminder that he was proud of me.
While it may have seemed embarrassing when she was bragging about you to the doctors and nurses, know that you have made her very proud.
I got tears in my eyes reading the OP. At least you have the consolation of knowing your grandmother is just…away… for a while, and you can see her again. She sound like a lovely woman.
Especially that part about her pride in you. My grandmother is like that. I’m the oldest grandchild, and she made me feel special because of that. And not many people my age still have a living grandparent. I’m 56 and my grandmother is 106.
I’m sorry for your loss. She is surely happy, but it sucks for those of us left to mourn.
Take care. We will be thinking about you and keeping you in our own thoughts and prayers.
I’m sorry for your loss, AK84. I was lucky enough to have known both of my grandmothers although the first died when I was 13. You’ve been blessed by her life and you can honor her in death by her memory. Godspeed to you.
AK84…my condolences on your loss. She sounded like a special lady and that she was truly devoted to you. All my grandparents are long gone (and I’m only 41 years old), and if you have more…it doesn’t get any easier burying them as they succumb to the inevitability of age.
I lost a grandmother back in February. I’d seen her two weeks before she died (after burying my grandfather on the other side of the family). We chatted for an hour or two and I told her I’d bring my daughter to see her at Easter (she was only 10 weeks old at the time and I didn’t think she’d be up to a 5 hour drive). Big mistake that.
