In Memorium

Today my grandmother died. One of my six grandmothers. Grandma G, Daddy's mother, passed away this afternoon. Daddy = Fred for those of you who are trying to keep track of my family tree. I didn't get to see Grandma G very much, but I always knew she was there, and that she loved me unconditionally. She accepted me as Daddy accepted me, as one of her own even though she didn't meet me until I was around three or four. She's been in my life as long as I can remember, and she loved me and I loved her, and in my book that makes her my grandma.

So, I have four grandmothers left now, which means Zozo has four great-grandmothers left, which is pretty lucky I guess. Although one of the grandmothers is a little out of reach due to an unfortunate family fissure. It still feels good to know she's out there.

What I suppose bothers me more than anything right now, is how my Daddy must be feeling. It hurts my heart to know that his heart is hurting, and that I can't do a damn thing about it. I felt this way a few years ago when my Grandma Goggie passed away. I sat there, and looked at my Dad, and tried to fathom the emptiness he must be feeling. These women were their mothers. Maybe because I am a mother now it hits just a little closer to home. I cannot imagine losing my mother, so I cannot imagine how they must feel. I can only see the hurt and pain in their eyes, and feel the helplessness of us all.

God bless Grandma G, Grandma Goggie, Grandpa Carl, Grandpa Frank, Gramps, Grandpa Russ and Grandpa G. And I thank God for Granny, Grandma Jo, Grandma Frank, and Grandma S.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So. There it is. Today was fine through lunch (see post below), but went into the shitter shortly after. First, I had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I realized that I have a major event at the spa next Friday evening that conflicts with other plans we've made. Crap. So I called M in a panic, which was stupid, because all I did was ruin the rest of his day. Basically, our plans are just delayed a couple of hours.

I had just gotten past that when I received the call from Beans about Grandma. Another round of tears upon hearing the story of Daddy trying to get to the hospital in time to say good-bye and not making it. I swear my heart broke right there for him.

Okay, breathe...breathe...regroup. Okay. We can deal with this. I finished up my work and headed out to stop by Sarah's going away happy hour. Started the car, and all the little lights on the dashboard lit up bright and shiny, and the car started whining. You've got to be kidding me. Quick phone call to the mechanic and my fears were confirmed: alternator going out. Instructions: bring it here right now or risk winding up stranded on the side of the road somewhere. "Um, yeah, this wasn't exactly part of the plan."

My car is now camped out at the dealer, awaiting a $450 alternator (so not in the budget right now). They're going to "try to squeeze it in." M picked me up and we came home. I ended up skipping Sarah's happy hour because of time and because I didn't want my Tammy Faye Baker eyes to be a total drag on her day. M ran around the yard like a madman to get the grass cut, because our jam-packed weekend dictated now or never. We ate a quick dinner and went to put Zozo in the carseat in his car to go to Shawn's birthday party.

Today was the first time in Zo's nine-plus months that she's been in M's car. His car is very small, and very cramped inside, especially in the back seat, and getting her in there meant practically turning into a contortionist. To top it off, the straps were adjusted for a newborn, which she most certainly is not any longer. Having never actually used the carseat, M was forced to figure out how the darn thing works on the fly, which is intensely frustrating to him. Zoe and I hung out in the back yard as expletives drifted from the garage.

She cried her eyes out all the way there, which pretty much mirrored exactly how I was feeling.

A little fussy while there (both of us, actually), but Grammy took charge of tending Zozo and they kept each other happy. After what felt like seconds, it was time for her ba-ba, and then time for us to leave.

M is hanging out in the library right now, and I'm sitting here wondering just how much more I can type. I'm thinking it's enough, and that this entire post is just a major bummer and that I probably shouldn't even bother to post it. There's nothing even remotely witty, which totally blows, but I'm just too damn exhausted at this point to try to be humorous.

So, I'll do what I always try to do when I'm feeling blue. I try to give thanks for all that I do have. Thank you, God, for Zoe and M, for my parents and his, for sisters and brothers, grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins. For cars that break down the week before a big road trip and not during the big road trip. For friends who will understand why I missed a happy hour. For a best friend who listens to me cry in the middle of her insanely busy workday and never once sounds impatient with me. Thank you for the pain of a hurting heart, because that reassures me that I have a heart and that I'm lucky to love others so deeply. Thank you, God, for my life, with all it's hills and valleys, twists and curves, because I know that life is indeed a most precious thing and that I am blessed to be here at all.