My gram died a few days ago. Growing up, she was probably the adult I was closest to after my parents. We moved from Ohio to her house in Maine after my grandfather died back in the 70s, so I spent a lot of time there as a child. Even after we moved to our own place I used to go visit there on weekends a lot. She was pretty much exactly what someone would want a grandmother to be: unconditionally loving, wise, interested in me, and a darn good cook to boot. She tried to make sure I turned out to be an ethical human being (she was my godmother too, I think). Sadly the church part didn't really take, although I think I do pretty well as a person. Now she's gone and I'll never see her on this world again. It sucks. But she was 88 and had a full life and died in her sleep, so I guess that's about a good a way to check out as any. I am grateful that I got to talk to her the day before she passed, even if I didn't know she was going away. Right at the end she knew I loved her and that's somewhat satisfying. Today I fly back to Maine, where it hopefully is not snowing. The funeral is Monday. It's hard to even imagine a world without my gram, but that's the one I live in today. Wherever you are gram, you are loved and missed.
Remember kids, never forget to tell your loved ones you love them. You never know how long we'll all be around on this big ball of dirt.
Labels: loss, Maine, travel
