A final good-bye

I am hesitant to write this. I'm afraid of writing about something too personal, making myself vulnerable, touching upon a taboo topic. But the words are there, so I will write them.

I haven't dealt with death a lot. I'm not experienced in it and its nuances. I realize now what I always knew but didn't quite comprehend—that death comes in different ways. I wrote briefly of my grandpa's passing, which was sudden though not surprising. With my grandma, it's been much different. To know someone you love has been handed a death sentence is like having a constant cloud hanging over you. I've been waiting, each day slipping by with a slight feeling of dread. More than once, since I flipped my calendar to the month of March, I looked and knew the day was there in front of me, staring me in the face. It was selfish to hope it would be later rather than sooner. I didn't want to let go. Though I knew she was suffering, a part of me clung to the belief that as long as she was here on this earth, nothing had really changed. While I knew in my mind it was impossible, in my heart I hoped she would get better.

My grandma passed away on Saturday. The permanence of it means I must finally admit to myself that things have changed. With her goes a little piece of me. I feel guilty in my grief. Ming tried to comfort me, saying he knows how it feels because he lost his father. I told him that it's not the same. It isn't. To me, losing a parent who has not lived past middle age is a devastating loss. I can't imagine enduring the pain and unfairness of it. But losing a grandparent, one that lives a long and healthy life, is not a misfortune. I couldn't let Ming compare his loss to mine, because his seems so much greater. Still, it hurts to lose someone, no matter how old they were.

I hope I can age as my grandma did. She remained active, walking a mile every day, up until the last few months of her life. She was able to drive past her 90^th birthday. And until three weeks ago, she was living in her own house. I know she was in some pain in her final weeks, but she was healthy most of her life. In fact, after my mom was born she didn't see a doctor for over 50 years. I think she was lucky in many ways, so I want to try my best to celebrate her rather than mourn her. Right now it's difficult, but I think each day it gets easier.

Her funeral is today and, being in China, I won't be attending. I am okay with that. I was able to see her last month and say good-bye. I'm grateful for the time I had with her and that she was able to meet both my husband and son. She will be missed.

JLM 06/09/24-03/21/15