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Leaving home, going home.
Jun. 11th, 2008 12:09 pmGrandma left last night, 1:40 a.m.
Mom came into my room, crying, and I hugged her. Reminder to self: I've written more about this on paper, some of which may or may not make it to the journal.
I got up, touched the pulse point in Grandma's shoulder to feel it Not Going, called the nurse paging service, and turned off the bed. (It inflates and deflates to prevent bedsores. If she's not breathing anymore, it shouldn't be either, because I have this phobia about inanimate things moving and Zombie Grandma would not be cool.)
Then I got a bowl of ice cream with whipped cream on top and ate it sitting with Aunt B who had a bowl of cereal. We pointed out to any Grandma-consciousness that might be present that we are continuing the tradition of making sure we have PLENTY to eat any time we're in her house. Then we sang a couple songs (B: some of Grandma's favorite Christian Science hymns, Me: Turn the World Around), and then I went back to bed and hugged Mom some more.
( Then I got up this morning and had to say goodbye to the house I lived in when I was five years old. )
I sobbed over the back yard. Haven't cried over Grandma. The whole thing was just too surreal. It's probably coming later. Or not. We'll see. Grandma and Grandpa were the house to me, and vice versa. The weird little alien thing in the bed had little in common with Grandma. That kitchen had everything to do with Grandma, that studio everything to do with Grandpa. I'm glad I took the time to walk through it.
Probably more fallout later, but I'm coming back to Seattle now. My boss told me to call him when I knew when I'd be coming back, so while that will probably be tomorrow, I'm not ruling out sleep dep as a reason to take one more day. We'll see after a full night's sleep.
Mom came into my room, crying, and I hugged her. Reminder to self: I've written more about this on paper, some of which may or may not make it to the journal.
I got up, touched the pulse point in Grandma's shoulder to feel it Not Going, called the nurse paging service, and turned off the bed. (It inflates and deflates to prevent bedsores. If she's not breathing anymore, it shouldn't be either, because I have this phobia about inanimate things moving and Zombie Grandma would not be cool.)
Then I got a bowl of ice cream with whipped cream on top and ate it sitting with Aunt B who had a bowl of cereal. We pointed out to any Grandma-consciousness that might be present that we are continuing the tradition of making sure we have PLENTY to eat any time we're in her house. Then we sang a couple songs (B: some of Grandma's favorite Christian Science hymns, Me: Turn the World Around), and then I went back to bed and hugged Mom some more.
( Then I got up this morning and had to say goodbye to the house I lived in when I was five years old. )
I sobbed over the back yard. Haven't cried over Grandma. The whole thing was just too surreal. It's probably coming later. Or not. We'll see. Grandma and Grandpa were the house to me, and vice versa. The weird little alien thing in the bed had little in common with Grandma. That kitchen had everything to do with Grandma, that studio everything to do with Grandpa. I'm glad I took the time to walk through it.
Probably more fallout later, but I'm coming back to Seattle now. My boss told me to call him when I knew when I'd be coming back, so while that will probably be tomorrow, I'm not ruling out sleep dep as a reason to take one more day. We'll see after a full night's sleep.
