She didn't want a funeral, which if I'd known that she would have heard some protest for me. I think funerals are good for closure. On Sunday, when I found out she was at the very end, I wanted to be there so badly. I stood in the shower and bawled my eyes out -its these times that living so far away from family really sucks. But, maybe it's good I wasn't there after all. My last memories of her include the two of us sitting on a bench in the backyard of her care home, watching the Little Pirate crawl in the grass, and admiring the brilliant June roses. It was an uncharacteristically cool and breezy day for the time of year -now I see it was a tender mercy, for my sake.
It was, on the whole, an emotional day. Then I couldn't sleep last night for some reason, all night I tossed and turned and tried to still my mind -with no success. It was one of the rare nights that the L. Pirate actually slept all the way through -and I was wide awake. So frustrating!
So here I am this morning. Tired. Drained.
Yesterday my sweet friend Audrey showed up at my door with a jar of homemade pear butter. She, of course, had no idea the kind of day I was having, she was just there -a little ray of happiness at my door with a gift for me. Another tender mercy.
I think I'll find some Patsy Cline on Pandora today.
Grandma always did like her.