Dec. 18th, 2005

inyri: (Default)
My grandma died last Monday.

She hadn't really been sick, so it was very unexpected. We went to visit her in the hospital Friday night/Saturday morning, when they thought she wasn't going to make it past then (she hung on until Monday morning which just goes to show you that stubbornness runs in the family). I was supposed to have an exam on Thursday and the stress all just piled up. I spent the entire time I was at the hospital throwing up. Not really an auspicious start to my hospital career- which is funny, since when Chris was in the hospital, even when he was really sick, I never got that way. I suppose part of me always knew he wasn't going to die- but with grandma I knew it was ending, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

It didn't really sink in until Wednesday at the wake- I think my vastly inappropriate affect on Monday was proof enough of that. Generally when I'm upset I end up a little slaphappy instead of showing that I'm upset- I was mostly off-the-wall ridiculous on Monday. So sorry about that, everyone. Wednesday, though, the wake was open-casket so I really couldn't avoid the whole thing. They did a good job with her makeup, to the point where I would have been fairly unsurprised had she sat up and asked someone to turn on the TV to see if there was a Cubs game on. Overall the effect was disconcerting.

The funeral was on Thursday. I cried a little. Mostly when they played Ave Maria- I always liked that song in particular but I'm not sure if I'll be able to listen to it for a long time. I went back down to school and took the test on Friday instead. I don't know yet if I passed. I wasn't really concentrating for that week- I spent most of it sleeping and when I studied the notes just ran out of my head back onto the page. We'll see how it goes, I guess.

I flew down to Phoenix today to spend Christmas with my family, and there is a wheelchair in the garage that she used to use sometimes when she and grandpa would come visit in the springtime. Now it is just a wheelchair, sitting in the garage and breaking my heart every time I look at it. She was my favorite grandparent. Sometimes I wish one of my other grandparents had died instead of her.

Does that make me a bad person?

May 2009

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