An Amazing Woman

My grandmother died on Monday morning. I sat with her for the last few hours, and she eventually just seemed to let go. She died holding my hand and that of my brother, listening to us talk to her. She was ready, I think. She'd seen the people she wanted to see, and she'd had as much discomfort as she could deal with.

I have to think of something to say at the wake on Saturday. There are so many things to say about her. She was somebody really special; she had so much love and patience and hope. She always thought the best of people, and she had a hard time seeing that the degree of goodness and selflessness she exhibited every day was extraordinary. But it was. As I said in a previous post, if everybody was just a little bit more like her, the world would be a much happier place.

I feel sad, and numb, and, in a way, happy for her, that she didn't have to put up with too much pain for too long at the end. I know it meant a lot to her to have the people she loved around her these last few weeks, and I also take some comfort in the fact that she saw me get married and my brother become a father. The most recent memories she'll have of her family are of a time where, as a whole, we've been happier than in a long long time, and that's something.

She gave me so much: a good example to follow, a place to live when I needed it, a home full of happy memories, an ear and a kind word whenever I saw her... she made--makes--me want to be a better person. I'm glad I was able to repay some of her kindness by making her happy and proud of her grandson.

Goodbye, Helen. You'll be sorely missed.