But the other part of me, the kid part, is having a rough time of this. Grandma's memory hasn't been what it used to be. And I have been TREMENDOUSLY lax in visiting her. Much more so than I should have been (it's that whole "not good with sick people" thing rearing its head). And the truth is, I don't want to remember her like she is now.
I want to remember her teaching me to crochet. Teaching me the "best way" to iron. Hanging clothes on the line. I remember being so proud when I was tall enough to string the clothesline from the garage to the house! Going over her recipe for chicken and rice - which, by the way, I have NEVER mastered. Trying to replicate her dumplings. A million memories come at me all at once, almost a sensory overload. And it's all I can do to hold it together today.
Hubby asks if I'm fine. Yeah. Sort of. Today is a weepy day, but I guess it's better to get it out now. We have her directions for the funeral. The dress is ready. I have the crystal rosary. We know the songs. Now, all we can do is wait. For God's own time, which is not our time. In a complete about-face, the dog is improving. She's blind in one eye, but we think the meds are working and she was back to her goofy self last night. I had a friend who used to write to me. She used to say that life was like a zebra. You got both black stripes and white stripes. Right now, it seems like the black stripe is pretty wide. I'm hoping to see the white stripe sometime soon.