See Sarah...

There’s been a noticeable absence in my blogging…my apologies.  But there’s a good reason for it: my grandmother passed away about a month-and-a-half ago.  I know I’m digressing a bit from the usual tone of my blog, which has been about writing my way out of unemployment (which I did!) and just general goings-on in my life that I think are interesting for people to read.  So writing about my grandma dying is admittedly kind of a downer.  But writing about all sorts of things in my life seems to help me cope, especially when bad things happen.  Call it theraputic, if you will.  I guess that’s why I’m a writer.

My grandma was diagnosed with leukemia last summer and was undergoing treatment.  She seemed to be handling chemotherapy well, but a few months ago her cancer had progressed and she decided she didn’t want to continue with more aggressive treatment.  Hearing that was devastating, but I completely respected her decision.  She was 74 years old, and had been through a lot in her life.  She raised her own chidren after a divorce, remarried, helped raise her step-children, and had another baby.  Being a compassionate and loving mother, grandmother and great-grandmother was so important to her.  She did a hell of a job at it. She was at peace at the end of her life and relied heavily on her faith.  Although I’m not a particularly religious person, I admired how much she called on her spirituality in her last days.

The thing that really touched me: though she was in unimaginable pain, she never complained. Even the times she was in such pain that she couldn’t help but cry out, she always said, “God, forgive me.” And when we would visit her hospital room, she would never talk about how bad she felt; she always asked about us. Her selflessness blew me away.  I only hope that some day, I can possess a fraction of the character she showed during her last days.

Although watching my grandma slowly decline day after day until she passed was the hardest thing I’ve experienced, knowing that she wasn’t hurting anymore was a comfort.  I know that sounds cliche, but it’s true.  She was able to die on her own terms: at peace and in the presence of family. And she said good-bye to all of her kids, grandkids, great-grandkids and relatives, which is something not many people can do before they pass.

I cried so much the day she died, and for days after that.  She meant—and still means—so much to me.  Things are just so surreal without her here anymore.  It sounds ridiculous, but I thought she would be around for awhile.  She was active, healthy and happy.  But I guess nothing happens like you expect.  There are still moments when the sadness sneaks up on me and I cry uncontrollably. I can’t help it. But all I can really do is let myself grieve slowly, one day at a time.  It helps to think of happy moments with her, and there are so many.  So here’s to you, grandma.  Love you so much, miss you always.  <3