Friday, May 15, 2009
And the world crumbled a bit.
My grandmother died yesterday morning.
My dad's mom, the one we had the big birthday party for in March.
She passed away peacefully in her sleep, but that doesn’t do much to make it better on my family. It’s the worst for my dad and his siblings - while I am extremely sad and shocked that it happened this soon, I am strangely at peace with her death – she had a really great and long life, knew right up till the end how loved she was, and is no longer in any pain or discomfort. The really tough part is watching my dad grieve for his mother, and realizing that some day my own parents won’t be with me anymore.
And I’ve been mostly “normal,” except when I think about specific things about her. How she taught me to count to 20 in Italian when she found out I’d signed up for a semester there. How she had the best sense of humor and would routinely joke with us, tease us. How she and my grandpa used to measure how tall the grandkids were in their door jam of their house and how she winked at me when I passed my older cousin in height. How she would hide the Christmas cookies but always let me sneak them.
How she'll never see me marry Sean, will never meet our kids.
She was 90 years old, and she had an incredible life. She was born in Italy, moved to the United States at 18. She liked Dean Martin more than Frank Sinatra, and she raised 5 kids to be amazing adults. She participated in the Senior Olympics and cruised through the Panama Canal. She cooked and baked like the ingredients were magic. She was a true matriarch – so much of what our family is can be attributed to her. She was outspoken, blunt, and strong – pretty incredible for a woman who never topped 5 feet. She lived 9 years, one month and three days without my grandfather, and I’m sure that I now have one more guardian angel.
She was, in a word, awesome, and I am going to miss her dearly.