My Grandmom passed away on Friday. We found out three weeks ago that she was sick and then quickly and slowly, and suddenly and gradually, she slipped away. From here to there. My parents and my grandfather were with her, standing firm and vigilant, to see her off. She left from her very own bedroom surrounded by the loved ones she had gathered and nurtured during her life.
I wasn’t terribly close to her, but she played a very strong, important role in my life. I admired her. She was strong and steady and no-nonsense, and since I am fairly full of nonsense, she was a wonderfully influential woman for me to look up to.
This has been very emotional for me. I feel sad about death in general. I feel confused that my grandmother died…it never really occurred to me that this might happen to her someday…which I know sounds odd. I mean, obviously I know everyone dies…but also it’s something that genuinely surprises me.
The memorial service is at the end of this week…and honestly, I am looking forward to it. I want to hear the things that people have to say about my Grandmom. I want to see my brother and sister and cousins and aunts and uncles. I want to be together with everyone who was touched by her.
This weekend was good. It was slow and cool and rainy. It was just what I needed.
We went to Coney Island to walk around in the fog.
And since some of us got more sandy than others, I made up a warm afternoon bath.
Andrew and I built this marble track.
And Dave and I snuck away on Saturday to celebrate our anniversary.
And all weekend I felt like I was more aware and present. I thought a lot about my Grandmom and felt an enormous amount of respect and gratitude for her life. And I thought a lot about my kids and felt waves of joy and hope about the future. I want to hold both: honor for the generations ahead of me and hope in what’s to come.