Saying Goodbye

About a week after my daughter and I returned from a fantastic trip to California, I got "the call" from my mom.  My grandmother had passed away.

I returned from Colorado last night but I feel like my mind/heart/soul are still there.

I wrote about my grandmother last year (you can read it here), wrote about how her health was in a steady decline.  Even though she wasn't the picture of health, it was so very sudden.  The night before her death, she was fine.  The following morning, she went almost catatonic.  My mom sat with her for hours, and it wasn't until she left to grab food that my grandmother passed.  I think the family is all still in a state of shock.  Poor health or not, we were not prepared.

I'm still sort of disconnected.  The blur of the last few days, the "thank you's," and the countless condolences are still so overwhelming.  My family really pulled together, as little in number as we are.  We shared stories, laughter, and tears.  Goodbyes are never easy.

Now that family has left town, the ones that remain...my mother, uncle, aunt & cousin...are left to deal with any remaining details.  I wish I could have stayed longer.  I wish I could be there to share in the responsibilities to lessen the weight, but life doesn't stop because you're having a rough go of it.

My grandmother was an amazing woman.  You always knew what she thought and where you stood.  She was feisty, driven, bold, & fearless.  She wasn't perfect, but she loved her family ardently.

Her death was a profound shock to my system, in more ways than the obvious.  I realized how self-absorbed I can be at times.  How I've wasted so much time.  Allocating my attention to dumb shit instead of to what's really important.  I owe it to myself, and those around me, to do better.  To stop making excuses and make things happen.  To step outside myself even if it is uncomfortable or inconvenient.  I've always prided myself in the fact that I'm not a selfish person.  However, I'm finding that I've been lying to myself...in some respects.  It is unfortunate that it took my grandmother's death to give me a wake-up call, and I feel shame and regret most deeply.  I know I have to change and, my God, how I hate change.  I'm a lot like my grandmother in the respect of being a bit of a control freak, and that extends, in a way, to my daily schedule.  Its hard to articulate, but when my daily routine changes, I get anxious, grumpy, and all around out-of-sorts.  I think that is my reaction to not being in control.

I will do better.  It might be baby steps, little changes done daily, but I am committed to building a better life that will feed my soul instead of draining it.