When a grandparent dies, somehow it always seems less sad then any other death. You're grateful that they are no longer in any pain...they hopefully lived a full life...maybe their living situation was less than ideal. There always seems to be reasons why people seem less upset.
I usually agree.
Except in this case.
My husbands grandmother passed away last night in her sleep, and even though everything forementioned appiles in this case, there is more to it.
This lady was very special. The first time I met her she insisted that I stood in the light so that she could see me better. "You're pretty," she said, smiling.
I immediately liked her.
Since her move into the nursing home, our visits with her were always enjoyable and when she was feeling well, they were amusing. She told us stories about her kids and her rambunctious daughter, sometimes the same story more than once. One of the last stories I heard her tell was about her roommate at the home - Nellie.
"I heard Nellie talking the other day and she was saying 'I hate this place, I just want to die.' So I said Nellie you don't mean that cause if you leave here we'll all miss you sooo much. Her expression just changed so much," she paused while we silently wondered how she saw Nellie's face. Her eyesight had grown significantly worse so that she could only see shapes. As if hearing our thoughts she cocked her head and said, "I guess." The room erupted in laughter.
She made sure to share with me her recipe for roast beef basted in Coca-Cola. I didn't have the heart to tell her I don't eat meat. Truth be told, for her, I would have probably given it a try.
Thanks for the memories Miss Rachel.
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