I went away with my fabulous husband to visit my family and best friend in Massachusetts and then to celebrate our 10-year wedding anniversary in NYC. That trip was all I'd wanted and more. Third row tickets to Hedwig and the Angry Inch with a surprise signing of programs by the cast afterwards, The Christmas Spectacular at Radio City with the Rockettes and of course a lot of time spent shopping, drinking and just being with my wonderful spouse.
However this time spent in America was bittersweet. I heard the news that my seemingly invincible Grandmother had taken ill on Thanksgiving Day. She had been suffering with pneumonia and was struggling to breathe, so into the hospital she went where the news was bleak. The woman who'd survived for three years with a tumor on her lung with no further discomfort was in pain. The woman who to me, since I was little would live forever, it turns out wouldn't.
I believe that there is something that guides us through life. Whether it's a higher power, or a past life dictating our current decisions or pure instinct, I don't know, but I know it's there because it has guided me into and through some of the most important decisions of my life, that at the time seem totally benign. When I decided that we wouldn't go home for Christmas this year I had no idea that decision would enable me to see my Grandmother again. When I insisted that we spend our anniversary in New York and not Budapest I was unaware that would mean I could say goodbye.
My aunt is a rock. A solid, stoic, petite hunk of geode that remains unmoved despite hurricanes, avalanches and many a shit situation. She is the cornerstone of my family and to be able to sit with her while decisions were made and questions were asked was a privilege. I'm not very active in my family. To be honest, the closeness freaks me out and I don't really understand it. I love them all fiercely, but I just don't know how to get involved, to not feel like I'm watching myself pretending to belong.
Gram was being looked after at the Jewish Health Care Center in Worcester, Massachusetts, which to me was the ultimate irony considering she was a staunch Catholic and was not too thrilled when my mom converted to Judaism to marry my dad. Her little hand-carved nativity sat on her bedside table next to her Christmas tree and no one seemed to mind. It's a beautiful place and the care that they gave to my Gram was exceptional. As I watched her work with the OTs there it occurred to me that this would be the last time I would see her.
She looked great. She always looked great: head to toe color coordination, a ring on each finger and her hair shiny and soft. You couldn't help but be impressed with how Gram always put herself together. We talked a little and nurses and doctors came in and out. Steve had a bad cold, so he stayed away. We snuck her brownies and talked about nothing, but we both knew, we all knew that these conversations would be the last we'd have.
Gram died last Tuesday with my aunt by her side. She departed this earth after 95 years of being in very good health and in very good spirits. She said she was ready and I believed her, though I'm not sure I'll ever be ready and I know that we were sure not ready for her to go. Selfishly I always expected her to be there for Christmas. Everyone else I've lost has died so young, so Gram was a lovely reminder that it doesn't always happen that way. But we do all go and although I'm so grateful for the time we have, I will always want more.
I've been told her service was beautiful and that she got everything that she wanted, which she was able to dictate. How few people must get to do that? My gorgeous and heroic cousin wrote and gave the eulogy and Gram was celebrated. I wasn't able to get back and I'm glad for that. I want to remember her as she was; beautiful, smiling, deaf as a post, but very happy. If there is an afterlife she'll have joined her grandson, her daughter and the love of her life. She'll be in very good company.
Love you , Gram
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