I travelled home because my grandmother was in the hospital. I chose to go alone because I had a feeling what the outcome would be.
My grandmother had been sick for quite some time. I mean I had just left on the 4th of August to come back home and she seemed fine. Well I was on my way back on the 23rd of August because things just went for the worst. I was going home on the 31st to see her anyway but a few phone calls with updates I knew I needed to get there ASAP.
I got there thinking I would go to my parents to drop my luggage off and then I could go in to see her. To my surprise I was greeted by my nephew and mother. My mother, tears in her eyes told me we needed to go to the hospital. I went for a cigarette while my luggage was gathered, went to the washroom and off we went.
As we drove to the hospital the tears were continuous. The time I spent with my grandmother and the time I had taken with my son with his great grandmother. She loved him and he loved her. Every time he walked through her door she lit up. Always starting the visit with, “oh look who it is. The world traveller.” We would usually be home two to three times a year and always spent lots of time with her.
This day was the start of my emotions that I just could not get a handle on. She was a woman that was so special. I could pick up the phone and call for advice with my son and she would help. She had 11 kids so I would always tell her she was an old pro. She would laugh and then tell me how it has been many years since she dealt with what I was calling about. We would both laugh and continue on.
Deep down I knew that it was her time. I knew that her life was fulfilling for her and that in the end she would be better off. I knew her time was coming to an end and 8 just did not want it to be yet.
I got to the hospital and waited my turn to go in and see her. She was asleep and once again my emotions over powered me so I walked out of the room crying. I respected my grandmother enough that I knew she would know want me to feel sorry for her. The truth is I did not feel sorry for her. She looked so tired and it was her time to rest. She woke up briefly and I got to speak with her for a few moments. That I will never forget. She had her wits about her and was always funny with her comments.
I sat with her holding her hand and rubbing it. Fixing her night gown and blankets and twirling her hair. She always had to look presentable. That was just her. As I sat with her I would burst out laughing remembering some of the things she would do or say. Remembering my times with her. I would get looked at and felt that I was just awkward about it because I know I do not handle these sort stuff of things too well. I did not speak much but keep to myself. I respected myself and those around me enough to know that we would all find our own way to grieve.
Apparently, my way to start grieving was by being with her bursting out laughing and remember the fun times that we had. Even trying to get family to remember the Sunday dinners with board games that followed. It was hard for some to hear so I stopped asking. At one point I thought people thought I was making a mockery of it all. But I maintained we all grieve differently as my outlook on it.
The 25 August, that evening she passed. I had gone for a drive because my emotions were all over the place. At one point I said I should go to the hospital to see her. It would have been 45 minutes for me to get there. I decided not to go because I had not been sleeping or eating and knew my body was not doing well. From the moment I thought I should go to the hospital to the moment the phone call came was 45 minutes. I should have gone but I didn’t and I cannot change that.
The worst part about it is that I froze, I froze and did not have any reaction. After a few minutes I cried. Then I went outside for a cigarette and I had a huge sense of relief. I have never felt something so strong. I was relieved she would not suffer and now she would finally be at peace.
From this point I did not talk to anyone. No phone calls, no social media. I went to a friend of the family’s (might as well be family) for Sunday night and got some of my feelings off my chest which still I found did nothing at all for me. I enjoyed the company I was in and how they allowed me just to get it out. But I had a friend willing to listen when I couldn’t make sense of my own thoughts. Good thing we have people in our lives that truly care about us. We had some drinks and I just talked. But I still knew my emotions were yet to get the best of me. And little to my knowledge so did they.
