My grandma is dying.
Jason and I spent a few hours last night sitting with her in the hospital.
She never knew we were there.
I'll go back in the morning, unless I get a phone call tonight telling me that she is gone
It's not a tragic death.
Grandma is a few days short of her 95th birthday.
She's lived a good life.
I love my grandma unconditionally, and I know that she loves me.
But we've had our moments.
Moments where I've told her that if she couldn't speak kindly to me I would hang up the phone.
Moments where I've told her that she needs to be nice to people.
Moments where I've come away from her house ready to divorce her.
I think that's just part of being a family.
In spite of all of our moments, I have always known that my grandma was there for me if I needed her.
On more than one occasion, when my life was too heavy, I would run away to Grandma's house.
She would put a frozen pizza in the microwave, sit at the kitchen table, and say 'tell me about it.'
One time not too long ago I didn't even make it to the kitchen. I walked into her house, sat in her rocking chair, and burst into tears.
My grandma sat there for 20 minutes, crying with me, and she didn't even know why.
The last time I talked to my grandma was a few weeks ago.
She was calling to tell me that I had two months worth of bank statements to look through, and that I needed to come down and balance her checkbook.
That has been my job since Grandpa passed away 5 years ago.
She wanted me to bring Jason with me.
She loved Jason.
I told her that we would be down soon.
We talked for a while and at the end of our conversation I told her I loved her.
I should have gone down.
I should have done more for her than I did.
I hope that she knows that I love her, in spite of the fact that I told someone last night that she was a pain in the neck.
I'm glad to know that this life is not the end.
I'm glad to know that she will soon be with Grandpa.
And I'm glad to know that I will see her again someday.
I love you Grandma.