But yeah. My grandma is dead. I am sad. I had a complicated relationship with her. She and my dad had a very rocky relationship while he was alive and that carried over into her relationship with me. She often took out her frustrations with my dad on me. I know she loved me and I loved her. I have her nose. I have her emotionality. I apparently have her fertility. I relish the gifts she's given me.
The biggest gift of all was this master class in dying. She was diagnosed with a recurrence of kidney cancer in January. She opted out of treatment and was given 6 months to live. She made it just a few extra days. In the meantime, she spent her final months at home among her family. Her 6 living children cared for her and she spent time with friends and her extended family up until her final days. I last saw her on Thursday. She was almost comatose by then. She tried to wake up and talk, but she couldn't. I could tell she heard me and knew I was there. It was awkward sitting at her bedside having a one-sided conversation. I'm sure she understood that. I'm glad I got to say goodbye. I'm so glad she got to hold her great-granddaughter that she waited for. I'm so glad she waited. I'm sad.
She died today around 2:00 in her home as she wanted. Four of her children, her husband and her sister were there with her. She was loved. She loved. What more could she ask for?