Funeral

The pastor made one remark at the funeral that made me mad.  He said that my Grandma was a perfect mom to her kids.  And maybe to three of them.  But not to my mom.  She was cold to my mom, not loving like she was to the others.  She always treated my mom as second best.  As something less.

And when my dad thanked my grandma for giving him my mom, well, that's probably the best thing she ever did for my mom.  Not a lot, just life.

And maybe she was better in her head, but she was never really that great.

So every time I see my mom, I always tell her how much I appreciate her, because she is great and I know that she works hard to be that great.

My grandma died

On Sunday, my mother took her mom to the emergency room.  On Tuesday, the doctors said she was going to die.  And they we waited.  We waited as her breathing slowed, my mother next to her, me many miles away.  We waited as her heart rate changed.

And then, this morning, while at work, I found out that she had died.  After 4 days of dying she finally died.

And she had 95 years, some good, some bad, but the good definitely outweighed the bad.

And here I sit, at work, waiting to go home so that I can finally cry.  So that I can finally mourn her.  So that I can hug my husband and get his love in return.

Death sucks.

Here's to you Grandma, may you rest in peace and may your heaven be everything you imagined and more.