So, my grandmother died on the Summer Solstice, at 10:00 pm, just as the sun was setting. I went to Pittsburgh to go to her funeral last Friday. It was the first time I can remember when someone close to me passed away.
I'm still finding it hard to believe that she's not here anymore. She was the matriarch of my dad's family, and without her there, everyone seemed disorganized and lost. I know that's how I felt.
Of the things about that week that make me the saddest are the image in my my mind of arriving in her house and not hearing the grandfather clock in her kitchen ticking. There was never a time in my living memory when that clock was silent. The other is the daydream I keep having, of her sitting alone on a train, looking out the window, until it comes to a stop, and the door opens, and my grandfather is waiting there on the platform, just as he was when they first met during WWII (he was blinded by a grenade, and she was a volunteer at the hospital where he recuperated after his injury). She looks just like she did in high school (there is a beautiful picture of her, that was over the casket at the funeral home). She looks lost and scared, but her face lifts as she realizes it's him, and that they're back together again.
At the funeral service, my uncle Bob said a few words about her life, and he mentioned that she had asked him what he was going to say at her funeral. He said he didn't know, did she have any requests?
"Be brief," she said.
Those were the only two words she said on the subject.
I can't shake the feeling that it was all a hoax, and the next time I go back to pittsburgh she'll be in the kitchen making spice cake. I'm trying to hold on to that image, because I'm afraid that if I don't, I'll forget what she was like.
I did see her while she was in the casket, and it was hard to believe she was dead. She looked so healthy, just as she looked ten years ago. In her memory, I've written lyrics for the song "Once in a While, Talk of the Old Days", and every time I sing them to myself, I have to hold back the tears, because of the memories they bring back.
I've saved one of my kleenex from the funeral service. It's in my commonplace book, with a caption that reads: "The tears I cried for Nana."
She'll always be with me.
- Mood:
Sadness - Listening to: "Once in a While, Talk of the Old Days"
- Reading: "Small Gods" by Terry Pratchett
- Watching: the screen blur
- Playing: gardener
- Eating: nothing
- Drinking: orange juice