I've had two heroes in my life: My great grandpa Bill and my great Grandma Skip. Neither of those were their actual names. My grandpa's name was Lovick and my grandma's name was Nova. My grandpa passed away 4 years ago from Alzheimer's and well, my grandma passed away about 6 hours ago from heart failure. Five months ago she had heart surgery (at 91 years old), her recovery over the past five months has been really rough. We didn't think she would make it past March, my brother and I actually flew back home to say our goodbyes, but she kept fighting and eventually gained some normal functions back (feeding herself, talking normally, almost walking, etc.). But her old heart had been through so much it was having a rough time. Since her surgery I think she's had about 4 or 5 heart attacks. The doctors said her heart was just giving out. Though I don't know a lot of details about what happened today, my mom said she had another one today and they couldn't get her to the hospital in time. She was gone too fast.
The sucky part about death, aside from the obvious, is people's reactions to it. Everyone wants to talk to you and see if you're okay; they all want to reminisce on the good times and try to sympathize with you. I don't know about everyone else but I don't want to talk to people about it. I'm clearly not okay but my way of coping isn't to sit and swap stories, I deal with it on my own. If I talk about it, I'll start crying and the last thing I want to do is start once I've finally stopped. And people always ask the age of the person, as if their age makes it less painful - "Oh, she was 91, well Piper she lived a long life". Is that supposed to make it okay? Her living a long life has meant that she's been a huge part of my life for my entire 22 years of existence, but because she lived longer it's easier? It's not. And what's the proper response when someone says "I'm sorry for your loss"? I say "thank you" but that never seems quite right; I've said "me too" but then I feel ungrateful for their empathy; I'd rather just say nothing at all but then I feel cold.
My grandma Skip was the greatest lady I've ever known. She was a spunky old lady from the south who had a heart of gold. She was sarcastic, but she loved everyone she met. She was hilarious and her smile and laugh were just about the cutest things ever. Not to mention her faith and love for God were inspiring. I hope that I'm half the woman and wife that she was. This world isn't going to be the same without her in it, but I can't blame her for wanting to party with Jesus and for wanting to see my grandpa again. She was never the same without him. She used to tell me, "Piper, sometimes I think that if I could just touch him one more time, I'd feel so much better". Now she can do that, now after four hard years without the love of her life she can finally feel better. The rest of us that are left behind have to keep that in mind and try to pick up the pieces. After four years I still cry at the drop of a dime when I think of my grandpa, and I know that I'll do the same four, ten, probably twenty years from now when I think of both of them, but "how lucky am I to have known a person who was so hard to say goodbye to".
Goodbye grandma. Words can never express how much I'll miss you. I love you.
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