Loss and Not Sleeping

     Ever since my granny passed on May 15th I have had a heavy heart. It really started back in April I guess, when we decided to move back to Florida (something I begged for and wanted for 7 years). When it finally happened I was a little happy, but terribly sad. I am a family person, and I love being close to them, but I just hate Alabama winters. I love the sun and the beach. I can't help but feel like telling my G that I was moving may have made her sad. She was lonely and we were very close and maybe she just decided to give up and get out of everybodies way. It breaks my heart. My mom is sad too that we moved so quickly and wishes we would have waited. I lived away from home for quite a few years and since I moved back in late 2009, mom and I were really enjoying meeting for lunch and going to garage sales. All those mother-daughter things we had missed.
     Since granny passed I have trouble sleeping at night. I lay awake and think about the shortness of life and all the things I could have done. I also think about all the loss that I (we, humans) will face in this lifetime, if we are fortunate to live an average life. Family, friends, spouses, pets.... I am not that strong and I don't know how one is expected to handle so much loss. My G was lonely. She had lost almost every person in her life except her surviving children. I remember the day of Papa's, and her baby brother's funerals how frail and dishevled she looked. She was in shock and had pnuemonia. She went straight to the regrigerator in her little heels,her purse still on her arm and started cleaning it out. It was such a sad experience to watch. She was so strong. A fiesty little fighter...but I think about all the times she had to eat dinner alone. How very sad. A few weeks before she passed I took her to lunch. Mom and Heather came too. We walked through the wild flower garden and she had to sit and rest. She asked me right there in the middle of the park to sing to her the song I was going to sing at her funeral. I did it, but I knew what her request meant. That day when I went to leave she kept hugging me, telling me thank you and that she loved me....I saw tears in her eyes and I still see them. I knew what was coming. On the Monday before she passed, we were all at her house when she had a mini stroke. Heather was giving her a manicure. She tried to speak but her words were jumbled. She finally said, "I can't get my words out." I called her later in the week to check on her and she said she felt good. I asked her how she could be so brave....she said, "Well, I know what's coming and there is no use to fear it." I just hate that she laid in the floor all night....the thought is unbearable. She was not awake, but still, she was breathing.
   G was the kind of person who took in all the people nobody else wanted to be friends with. She felt sorry for outcasts and she cared about people. I can't even tell you how many people she took in and cared for over the years.                                                                                                                  One of my favorite things to do with her and papa was to sit and look at hundreds of pictures. They would tell me all about each one and I would try to label them. G showed me the things she had saved over the years. Her Mom's glasses. A tobacco pack from a brother. Remnants that nobody else would care about. She was the baby of 12 or so children and her dad passed when she was young. It was like she kept little pieces of them in the drawer. After she passed, we found the worn, faded dress of her first baby Sylvia who only lived a matter of hours. She had a well worn dress of her mothers and numerous pairs of broken glasses and Bibles from loved ones. Papas watch and ring. She even had Papa's old doorbell that played the Tennessee Waltz, which she gave to me when he passed.
    I felt like she was in my corner, and to be honest there are precious few people in the world who will have your back like a mother, a grandmother, and a sister (if your lucky:).
   I have always been sensitive and introspective. I have always thought about death and pain. I am a happy person, I just have to feel my pain so that I can move through it. I cannot bury it because it will not go away unless I feel it and own it.
  I can't help but think..."How long will I have my parents, aunts, uncles, sister etc." I know they could all outlive me, especially with all the worry I do. Sometimes I would like to ask God why he made me so sensitive. It is really one of the crosses I have to bear.
 I just hope granny knew we were all there with her at the hospital when she was taken in and that we loved her. She passed in the hospital in the middle of the night with none of us there at the moment. I know her spirit was gone, but my human mind can't fathom her passing on without us there. We were able to hold papa as he passed over and that made it easier to let him go somehow.
   I am fortunate in that although she wasn't perfect, she was a kind, loving, wildly funny lady. I am proud that she was grandmother.