My Grandma

As some of you know, my grandma recently passed away. These past few days have been somewhat difficult to go through, though probably not for the reason you’re thinking about.

I first got informed my grandma was hospitalized on Friday 6/18, the same weekend my brother was flying in to visit me. My dad tells me that the doctors are pretty sure she has some form of leukemia, but wouldn’t be sure which type it is until the labs reopen on Monday.

This sort of threw a wrench into all my plans and I should probably be tarred and feather for even thinking that. On one hand, the right thing to do would be to fly back to see our grandma. On the other hand, a lot of money had already been invested into this trip. We decided to continue with our trip and would get status updates. With that lingering in the back of my mind, I tried to enjoy the time with my brother as best as I could.

Fast forward to Thursday 6/24, I was informed that my grandma has a form of acute leukemia and probably won’t make it past a few days. My dad wanted to know if we wanted to see grandma one last time. My mom already had tickets back to LA on Saturday night and my brother was leaving Sunday morning. I figured if I was going back to LA to see her 1 last time, I’d try to get a flight Sunday morning/afternoon and fly back to Seattle early Monday morning.

While at work on Friday 6/25, my sister IMs me and informs me that grandma is probably in her last moments/hours and I should pray for her. I forwarded that message to my mom and brother. We were later informed that she passed away peacefully some time around 6pm.

I’ve been thinking this over and over for the past few days. Should we have flown back immediately when we heard of the news? What’s killing me isn’t the grief of my grandma dying, but the fact I’m not feeling much grief at all. I’m her grandchild and I should be feeling grief. Is there something wrong with me? This wasn’t just some random family member, this is my grandma who took care of of me since I was little baby.

My earliest memory of my grandma isn’t actually my own memory, but something that has been recorded on VHS. However, my parents and siblings make fun of me everytime about it. I was probably around 4 or 5 at that time and we in the back of our house in Long Island playing with snow. I would throw a snowball at my grandma and playfully she threw one back at me. I began to cry and I wouldn’t stop crying until she let me throw another snowball at her.

I spoke with my dad on Saturday and he sounded okay. It’s a good thing that at least my sister was home to look after him.

Dave told me about his experience and I may just be in a state of shock and grief will probably settle in later. I actually saw my grandma when I went back to visit back in May and she seemed to have been doing fine. The fact that this came out of nowhere may be another reason why I’m in a state of shock. Maybe when I fly back on 7/10 for her funeral, things would become clearer and I can find some emotional release.

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