blog.lancehaun.com

So my grandma on the other side of my family died on Friday. This came as really crummy news. Over the course of six months, the number of grandparents I have was cut in half.

Half of the issue I am having right now is that my grief isn’t coming easy on this. With my grandpa in July, it flooded in and I had no problems letting it out. Like I said in my posts around that time, my grandpa and I spent a lot of time together especially when I was younger. His death wasn’t a total shocker but you knew the guy was as tough as nails. He had gone through this exact surgery before and didn’t lose anything from it. When he died, it seemed like part of my childhood went with him. With my grandma, she had an advanced form of dementia in the last six years and had been affected by the disease since I was in junior high. I can remember the last conversation where I felt she totally understood me and it was before I left for college. It wasn’t anything big, it was just nice knowing that she knew who I was, where I had been in my life and where I was going. It was a feeling I never really got from her again.

I know that at some point, I am going to realize what happened and what I lost. I loved my grandma and I felt so powerless over the past few years because I couldn’t do much to help her. And when she went Friday, I felt that she had suffered in an irreversable state of fear, confusion and ill health long enough and it seemed her body agreed with me.

For some reason though, I feel guilty for giving up on her and not feeling the same emotions as I had six months ago when my grandpa left. My grandma had a great laugh (one that I never heard in the past two years) and she was always welcoming. And while she cooked some great food in her prime, I’ll always remember the bologna sandwiches she used to make for lunch when I came to visit. One piece of bologna between two slices of Wonder bread.

I have a lot of great memories of her. She will be missed.