Friday, March 26, 2010

Paternal Past.

Both of my dad's parents are gone. My grandfather died suddenly in 1995 of a massive heart attack. I still remember that morning vividly. The multiple phone calls. My dad running out of the house and scrambling in the car. Then his phone call to our house.

It's always strange after some one dies to see how family dynamics are altered. After my grandfather's death, my grandmother seemed to lose her interest in living. Caring for my grandfather was what she did. Now she didn't know what to do. They were married for almost 55 years.

Her life after his death was mainly filled with search word puzzles and television. In 2005 when I called to tell her I was pregnant, she first gasped in excitement and then said, "Well, the future is for the young." She died on July 22, 2005. That was the day I had the 20-week ultrasound and found out that Abby was in fact, a girl. My dad told her before she died. I'm glad she knew she was having a great granddaughter.

My mom called me that night to tell me that she died. I was sitting in a recliner in my basement. It was expected. I didn't cry. Ever. Isn't that odd? I've never cried for her death. I think it's because I know that she is where she wanted to be for so long. I always thought when people said that, it was just something to say. I did feel tears starting to form as I walked toward her casket, but when I saw her, I felt a sense of calm and contentment. Wrong or right, it is what it is.

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