Confessions of a Blogaholic

Mammaw passed away on Friday at 1:05 pm.

She was scheduled to be taken to my mom's house that morning. Hospice came out on Thursday to set up a hospital bed and all the associated equipment (oxygen tanks and what-not). Friday morning, Mom went to the hospital to wait for her to be released. I texted around 11:15 to see if she had been taken home yet, and Mom texted back, "Call when you can." Of course, I called right away. Mom said the doctors had come in that morning to check Mammaw out and found that her feet/toes were turning purple. They said this was a sign of everything shutting down. The hospice workers told my mom Mammaw had until Saturday morning.

I asked my mom if she thought I should leave school. She said, "Well, do what you think you should do." So, I immediately told my principal I needed coverage for the afternoon. Quickly, a substitute was brought in.

I drove home, picked up Nathan, and headed to the hospital. We arrived at 1:15, and I knew something was wrong when we exited the elevator on the 4th floor. The first person we ran into was my uncle, who looked uncharacteristically upset. Thinking little of it, we went back to the room, where a sign reading, "See Nurse before entering this room" was posted on the door. My aunt came out and just from the look on her face, I knew we were too late. 10 minutes...that's it. Just 10 minutes too late.

You know....I'm surprisingly ok with all of this so far. I haven't broken down, but I have shed some tears. I guess what I remember most about my grandma is her sarcastic, smartalick personality. She was hilarious to joke with. She was funny and stubborn. I picture all the things she is doing and saying now that she is free from her earthly burdens. For a 70-year-old broad, she was very with it, very aware. I love her like a best friend, and I am glad that she doesn't have to deal with all the degeneration anymore. She was so fantastic, and I can only wish that everyone was blessed to have a grandma like her.

This time around...my memories don't hurt. I'm ok to think about everything we've done together. The things I will miss about her were things that would never have happened again regardless of how long she lived--we would never have had another road trip together, we never would have sat around at her house watching ice skating, we'd never go to Hometown or Golden Corral again, we'd (Mom, me, and Mammaw) never sit around for hours cracking up over dumb stuff...those things were gone, and now they only exist in my memories. I'm ok to see her body, because I know how beautiful she has always been...and I'm desperately thankful her cancer didn't eat away at her like it did my grandpa. I'm ok to see her house and things that remind me of her, because I know that she will always be a part of who I have become. My heart doesn't ache, my soul isn't breaking, I'm not falling apart.

I'm thankful for every single day I was given with my grandparents. I gave/give them every bit of love I could, and I will make sure they don't just disappear into history. Words will never express how important they have been and always will be to me. I absolutely love them.

Now, it's my mom's turn to step up and be a grandma :) I'm sure one day little Rylee will be saying these exact same things about her Mammaw.