My grandmother finally died last thursday. It was long overdue, poor thing. She survived about six weeks without eating (or hardly eating), getting only fluids through her IV. It was devastating for her children and caretakers, though they tried to make it as dignified for her as posible. I’m sure she wouldn’t have wanted to live like that, so I’m glad she’s finally resting. I’m sad, and I miss her–but I miss the OLD her, the way she used to be, when her mind was all there. These last few years… her body was there, but the person she used to be wasn’t there anymore. In a way, I went through the 5 stages of grief years ago.
My dad and siblings drove over from Santiago and stayed overnight so we could go to the funeral the next day. It was four hours there and four hours back… all in one day, so pretty exhausting. But it was worth it. We got to say goodbye :). If my family hadn’t slept over at my house, I wouldn’t have been able to go, cos I wouldn’t have dared to drive there by myself with the baby in the back seat, maybe crying the whole time.
It feels so strange without her. Her house is still filled with her presence. I kept going into her room and sort of wandering around. Not a day went by that I didn’t get a WhatsApp from my mom or one of my aunts, asking “what do you think this is” or “what should we do about”, regarding her. She was an important part of our lives, even now that she wasn’t herself anymore. She’ll be missed.
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