I am a little hesitant to post about this, because the matter is so personal, and close to my heart. But my beautiful and sweet grandmother passed away on Saturday. She died at the age of 97. We all thought that she would make it to 100 because of her stubborness and fear of dying, but her body just couldn't keep going (though I think her spirit could've gone on forever).
It's been an emotional time. In a way, I'm happy she's passed on. Because I know she is in a better place. Without the aches and pains of old age. And she is with all her loved one's now. But I'm also sad. Because she is gone. And I will miss her. And I loved her so much.
She died with all of us surrounding her at the hospital (all my siblings, seven of us total). The nurses kept saying how wonderful it was that all of could be there with her in the end. And I'm glad we were. How could we not be? Grams was there for ALL of us at many times in our lives.
Grams was feisty as hell, racist, stubborn, and downright hilarious too. My family and I could quote grandma's sayings all day. She used to tell us things like "Mayonaise is good for the heart because it has iron in it", and other great tidbits of advice like "He that takes the shit gets to the top." And though I laugh, and remember how she was always criticizing me for not cooking enough for my husband, I will always remember her loving spirit and charity towards others.