My grandmother passed away a couple weeks ago. I cried a lot those first couple of days, but then it was time to put my game-face on because I had residency and school stuff to get through. I couldn’t be a weeping, crying mess and expect to pass and function.
So I just didn’t think about it.
My family had her remains cremated so that services could be postponed for a bit and allow people who wanted to travel to make arrangements.
Which is the real reason why I’m in Vegas.
Don’t get me wrong, hanging out with @ktjnwow has been a blast. She’s amazing company and I enjoy talking with her a lot. But she’s doing me a bigger favor by giving me a place where I can sleep and shower.
Tonight (Friday) I’m supposed to make my way to my uncle’s home and look through my grandma’s things to see if there’s anything I’d like. I can’t help but feel this is like vultures picking at a carcass. I know that’s not the case, but there’s that part of me that thinks that way.
She passed peacefully in her sleep. She lived a good long life, and I know that she wasn’t want for anything. My grandfather passed away a few years ago, but for some reason I didn’t have the same kind of reaction.
My grandma is the reason why I started to crochet. She used to make these blankets and was always working on one of them for the grandkids. During my shitty post-high school years I didn’t realize what she invested in that blanket and I gave it away because I couldn’t fit it in my car one night when I was moving in an emergency. When I picked up crochet, years later, I remembered that blanket. And I’m mad because I have no idea where it is. And I can never get it back.
My grandma got the first amigurumi I ever made. It’s ugly and hideous, but is a symbol of my desire to be better and get better. I had always planned on making another one for her.
I always thought I’d have more time.
It kind of sucks when that happens, you know? When it happens unexpectedly, like most things in life. It forces you to deal with the inevitability of death and the certain future that we all have. And while I know she loved me and she knows I loved her, I wish I had had one more chance to see her and hang out. I loved hearing her stories. She was so kind of generous. She made me laugh.
I’m mad at myself for taking for granted that she would be here when I visited again. I’m sad I can’t say good-bye. I’m pissed because she was a lovely woman and she’s gone now, leaving the world a little less of a good place in her absence.
This post is part of the #Blaugust series.