Dealing with Death
This is an intensely personal subject for me, so this particular entry is not for the casual reader. I feel an almost therapeutic need to describe my emotions and the events surrounding my grandmother’s death. There are times when voiced words seem insufficient and bland, when only the written word can satisfy the need to pull out the emotions brimming beneath the surface–this, perhaps is one of those times.
On Friday August 1st at 8:00 AM my mother called me from Tennessee where she had just
arrived the night before and told me that my grandmother had what they suspected was a stroke sometime during the night. My thoughts were immediately turned to the idea that my grandmother was dying. I remember another time that my grandmother was very sick and in the hospital and I wondered if it could possibly be the end, my thoughts were different this time than they had been before, it was as if I already knew that this was the end. I knew it inside, but felt the lack of confidence in speaking those words. So as I went about my day, the words ‘my grandma is dying’ seemed to echo in my head constantly. I stood in line at the post office and when I looked over at the elderly lady next to me I thought ‘my grandma is dying’ and I started to cry. At the gym as I peddled on the bike I thought ‘my grandma is dying’ and I cried again.