(‘Cause there’s more to life than politics … – promoted by mooncat)
I woke up this morning, knowing I just had to see her. The funny bunny she was, always thoughtful with a little snip at you. My 86yo fraternal grandmother. The pretty lady who romanced my grandfather. She's been at Huntsville Hospital for a month with heart/kidney failure, and I just knew I needed to see her today.
After a lovely jaunt in my father's Dodge Ram, an oversized pickup I'd driven only twice, and was terrified to drive on Highway 72, I marched on.
But I made it to the hospital, to see her in the same shape I saw her last, gasping for oxygen, the mask on her face, her bloated body. Hands. Feet.
I was nearing a year anniversary since Granddaddy passed, and after I heard that she'd keep asking nurses the date, I wondered if she wasn't trying to wait it out until Valentine's, or his death date of 2/24.
It wasn't to be.
Minutes after I kissed her forehead and said my goodbye to her, unconscious, and to my grand uncle and my Dad (the best father you'll ever see or meet, because he is my rock and doesn't even know it)… Grandmother died.
I can only hope she's with Granddaddy now, and they are dancing. Because no man ever loved a woman more than him. And no woman, ever loved a man more than her.
And here they are, in Heaven.
And life, is like a song.
Your thoughts and prayers are appreciated as we grieve.