Four years ago tomorrow, my grandmother died. She was my mom’s mother. Four years ago in April, my dad’s dad died and I no longer had any grandparents. His death was less tramatic for me because I didn’t know him as well and he was 92, as opposed to my grandmother’s 74.

I wrote the following entry three years ago tomorrow, in Denying Reality.
(cut because it’s sad)

// begin DR entry

03.11.02 (MONDAY) 12:30 PM
a year ago tonight

A year ago tonight my grandmother died. She was 74. She was in a nursing home at the time. I had just visited her earlier that night. It was about 2 am when my mom called me telling me that she had passed away. I remember looking at her white keds she was wearing. I have a pair like that. I haven’t been able to wear them since. When they were getting her ready for bed she wanted to keep one sock on because her ankle was swollen. She told me to hold up a mirror to her roommate’s betta, and I did. I told her I read the books she had gotten me for Christmas and I liked them. They were the last books she ever bought me. She used to buy me books all the time, especially “The Cat Who…” series.

(from my weblog on
February 05, 2001
i really haven’t had a good last week. last sunday or monday my grandmother fell and broke her hip. she was laying in her bedroom all night until my mom found her in the morning. she had surgery and they put a plate and pin in her hip. the breaking of her hip in itself is not good, but then you add in the fact that she has severe heart and lung problems, has been on an oxygen tank for the last 4 years, and had a heart attack not even a year ago. she’s in a rehab hospital now but last night they had to take her back to the regular hospital because she was having chest pains. they found that her lungs were full of fluid so they did whatever they did to drain it and she went back to the rehab hospital. i don’t really know what’s going to happen from here. the odd thing is, i’ve been on computer most nights since then but i haven’t written about it in here before today. that’s just not me. i don’t know why i haven’t. my best guess is that writing it down makes it more real. and i don’t want it to be real.

That’s about when it all started. The night she broke her hip. After that she went from the hospital, to the rehab hospital, to the hospital again, to a nursing home. She had only been at the home a few days. Mom had someone coming in the next day to install cable for her. It was so strange that she died right after I visited her. It was like she had been waiting just to see me. She wasn’t in good shape at all when she died. She was in physical pain and you could tell she was in mental pain as well. She was not herself at all. She was very depressed.

The funeral was a few days later. It was attended by a large number of people. It was a dark day. It wasn’t really raining, just misting. I wore a new dress, that I only wore once after that for my grandfather’s funeral three weeks later. I didn’t cry during the funeral. I don’t know why. Everyone else did. My brother, my cousin, my niece and nephew. Everyone. My family had asked me to find a poem to be read at the funeral. I would have liked to have read it myself, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to. So a friend of my uncle read it.

“God Only Takes The Best” – anonymous

God saw she was getting tired
and a cure was not to be.
So he put his arms around her
and whispered, “Come with me.”

With tear-filled eyes we watched
her suffer and fade away.
Although we loved her deeply,
we could not make her stay.

A golden heart stopped beating
hard-working hands put to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us
he only takes the best.

I found it on the internet. It fit so perfectly.

I’m still not over it. She lived with my parents, in the bedroom right next to me. It’s such a noticable absence. I have a hard time dealing with it sometimes. I have so much more to say about it, but I don’t know how to say it.

I miss her. She raised me as much as my mom did.

// end DR entry

Comments are closed.