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My grandmother died today. She died a little after one in the afternoon. She died in the hospital after complications from congestive heart failure. My grandmother died today. I have to keep saying it because it hasn't quite sunken in yet. In fact, I didn't even start to cry until I started writing this.
I answered my phone and it was my aunt. She was the one who told me. She managed to get through two sentences before her voice cracked. I was very calm when I heard the news. I asked my aunt if she was okay, and if she was alone at the hospital--she wasn't, my uncle (her brother) was there too.
Earlier in the day, my uncle called me to say that the doctor's were going to take her off of any machines and medication she was on, so I knew what was coming. He asked me if I wanted to come see her before they did. I did not go. I visited her yesterday and mentally said my goodbyes. When I went, she wasn't able to speak; the breathing tube she had in prevented her from doing so. She kept trying to mouth things to us (my cousin was there as well.) The only thing that I could make out was "You know I love you." I told her that I knew, and that I loved her too. Then I left--visitation was limited to ten minutes.
So I answered my phone today and, despite expecting this to be it, was blindsided when my aunt told me that "she has passed away." When I heard the words, my brain really didn't hear them and I immediately went into "Are you okay?" mode with my aunt.
Once I hung up, I had to tell my mom to get offline through AIM, because my aunt needed to talk to her. A few minutes later, my phone rang again. It was my mom. She asked me if I was okay, which I told her I was. Then she said "Well, at least she wasn't in any pain." I could tell that she was saying it to convince herself, and not me. I agreed with her. After that, I went back to playing my video game. I played it for quite awhile before I saved and turned it off. Then, I got online and browsed around, not really looking for anything in particular.
Then, about ten minutes ago, it hit me. I am never going to go over and spend the night at her house again. We aren't going to order a pizza and watch British comedies on PBS until midnight. We aren't going to go to McDonald's and get a meal that we both know is bad for us but tastes so good. We aren't going to play cards anymore. We aren't going to argue over whose turn it is to be on the computer and get online. She isn't going to ask me to run down to Sheetz and get a gallon of milk, and to go ahead and get myself some doughnuts for in the morning. I am never going to listen to her tell one of her stories about the family again. We are never going to get to speak to one another again.
I knew it was coming. I have known for years she was going to die someday, and probably someday soon. But, for all my knowing, what I did not know is that I would care so much. She was a bigot and a homophobe, but despite her many (and I do mean many) flaws, I loved her, and until now I did not realize how much. I thought I would be able to handle it better.
For years, I told myself that I would only have to listen to her saying that gay people were sinners and that the niggers were a subspecies for so long, because she was going to die soon. And I actually waited for her to die, because I knew, as she had told me before, that when she did, I was one of the sole beneficiaries of her will (and it's a lot of fucking money.) The reason that I wanted her to die was because I knew that I could pay for college with that money. My entire life, my only dream was to be able to go to college, and to be able to afford it.
Then, a few weeks ago--the last time I saw her when she wasn't in the hospital, what does she do? She tells me that she wants to pay for my tuition. You could have knocked me over with a fucking feather. I did not show how ecstatic I was, but I did show her how appreciative I was and thanked her.
I do not know when the funeral will be. I do not know if they are going to bury her or have her cremated. She had said one previous occassions that she wanted both done, so there was no definite answer. I do not know what is going to happen to her three cats, one of which is my age and I have known since I was a baby. I mean--I do know what is going to happen to them, but I can't bring myself to think about it.
The one thing I do know? We aren't ever going to order a pizza again.
I answered my phone and it was my aunt. She was the one who told me. She managed to get through two sentences before her voice cracked. I was very calm when I heard the news. I asked my aunt if she was okay, and if she was alone at the hospital--she wasn't, my uncle (her brother) was there too.
Earlier in the day, my uncle called me to say that the doctor's were going to take her off of any machines and medication she was on, so I knew what was coming. He asked me if I wanted to come see her before they did. I did not go. I visited her yesterday and mentally said my goodbyes. When I went, she wasn't able to speak; the breathing tube she had in prevented her from doing so. She kept trying to mouth things to us (my cousin was there as well.) The only thing that I could make out was "You know I love you." I told her that I knew, and that I loved her too. Then I left--visitation was limited to ten minutes.
So I answered my phone today and, despite expecting this to be it, was blindsided when my aunt told me that "she has passed away." When I heard the words, my brain really didn't hear them and I immediately went into "Are you okay?" mode with my aunt.
Once I hung up, I had to tell my mom to get offline through AIM, because my aunt needed to talk to her. A few minutes later, my phone rang again. It was my mom. She asked me if I was okay, which I told her I was. Then she said "Well, at least she wasn't in any pain." I could tell that she was saying it to convince herself, and not me. I agreed with her. After that, I went back to playing my video game. I played it for quite awhile before I saved and turned it off. Then, I got online and browsed around, not really looking for anything in particular.
Then, about ten minutes ago, it hit me. I am never going to go over and spend the night at her house again. We aren't going to order a pizza and watch British comedies on PBS until midnight. We aren't going to go to McDonald's and get a meal that we both know is bad for us but tastes so good. We aren't going to play cards anymore. We aren't going to argue over whose turn it is to be on the computer and get online. She isn't going to ask me to run down to Sheetz and get a gallon of milk, and to go ahead and get myself some doughnuts for in the morning. I am never going to listen to her tell one of her stories about the family again. We are never going to get to speak to one another again.
I knew it was coming. I have known for years she was going to die someday, and probably someday soon. But, for all my knowing, what I did not know is that I would care so much. She was a bigot and a homophobe, but despite her many (and I do mean many) flaws, I loved her, and until now I did not realize how much. I thought I would be able to handle it better.
For years, I told myself that I would only have to listen to her saying that gay people were sinners and that the niggers were a subspecies for so long, because she was going to die soon. And I actually waited for her to die, because I knew, as she had told me before, that when she did, I was one of the sole beneficiaries of her will (and it's a lot of fucking money.) The reason that I wanted her to die was because I knew that I could pay for college with that money. My entire life, my only dream was to be able to go to college, and to be able to afford it.
Then, a few weeks ago--the last time I saw her when she wasn't in the hospital, what does she do? She tells me that she wants to pay for my tuition. You could have knocked me over with a fucking feather. I did not show how ecstatic I was, but I did show her how appreciative I was and thanked her.
I do not know when the funeral will be. I do not know if they are going to bury her or have her cremated. She had said one previous occassions that she wanted both done, so there was no definite answer. I do not know what is going to happen to her three cats, one of which is my age and I have known since I was a baby. I mean--I do know what is going to happen to them, but I can't bring myself to think about it.
The one thing I do know? We aren't ever going to order a pizza again.
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