You're Never Really Ready
My grandmother Elaine suffered from a mild heart attack that hit us all out of nowhere. She was hospitalized and on very rocky ground. She'd aspirated into her lungs and was suffering from pneumonia. The doctor's didn't think she'd make it and even had us all come in to say our goodbyes. This was more than a week ago. It was pretty much the worst night of my life.
We had the waiting room packed to capacity. Son's, Daughter's, Aunt's, Uncle's and a bazillion grandchildren from the age of 6 months to 35 years. It was moving to see and annoying for the medical staff to say the least. My grandmother like most grandmothers was the glue that kept us all together. I felt close to her. She'd treated me like I'd secretly always wished my own Mother had. I wasn't ready for any of this. Selfish but true.
She fought though and hard and eventually was moved out of the ICU, and all the scary tubes were nowhere to be found. She was awake again, breathing on her own, lucid, talking and cracking smiles and passing out hugs. I thought this meant she was safe again. I wasn't worried or the least bit scared. Things were better! We could all relax again.
Two days later she passed. We're all devastated, me entirely, but I am glad that we all had one more chance to give her a hug, tell her it was good to see her again and that we loved her. These last two weeks have been one heck of a ride. I find myself randomly thinking of her and either smiling or crying or both. From the cheese sandwiches she used to make my brother and I as kids, her famous 7 layer bean dip she'd make when she knew I was coming over or the candy she'd sneak to my kiddos when I wasn't looking, the very same thing she'd do for me when I was their age.
I'll miss her like crazy and I'm thankful for all she taught me about life and of course for that little bit of extra time we all got to spend with her. I would have done it differently had I known, but wouldn't we all?