I have a daily pill box for my Diabetes meds, but I’m probably older than either Lynn or Meagan. I carry my second Metformin in a screw-top plastic test tube thingy.
My grandmother died last night. This wasn't a shock or a surprise. Her health has been on the decline, and she's been in hospice for the last month. She lived a long life, and in her final days she was surrounded by her three adult children.
My grandma was a kind woman. She wasn't perfect, but I always felt loved in her presence. She was a retired kindergarten teacher, and was still working when I was a kid. I have so many happy memories sitting at her kitchen table, and I'm going to carry those with me for the rest of my life. She was also proof that anyone who claims that you get more conservative as you get older is full of shit, because she certainly didn't.
I think it's interesting how the body processes grief sometimes. I don't know that I'll cry, but over the past month, knowing this was coming, I've felt a tension in my gut. Now that she's passed, instead of relief that tension is replaced by a sense of emptiness. That something is missing that should still be there. Something has been taken away, and I feel it.
Of course, as I wrote that, I immediately started crying... so I guess my body processes grief in pretty ordinary ways too.
I wanted to come up with something profound linking this to Beltane, which we sit in the middle of right now, but it just seemed hackneyed. Like I was trying to dig out some greater significance when the truth is death comes whenever it wants. The only predictable thing about it is that it's the end of all of our journeys. I hope that when I pass I'm so lucky to have lived such a long life with people that I love around me in my final days.
For the record, I will be fine. I just needed to get these words out while they were still in my head. I don't have some rousing conclusion or deep insight to tack on here at the end, just that gut feeling that something is missing.
My grandmother died last night. This wasn't a shock or a surprise. Her health has been on the decline, and she's been in hospice for the last month. She lived a long life, and in her final days she was surrounded by her three adult children.
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Sounds like discussions my wife and I have.
Pill boxes really are handy, especially at the stage of ‘Did I just take my pills, or was I about to take my pills?’
I have a daily pill box for my Diabetes meds, but I’m probably older than either Lynn or Meagan. I carry my second Metformin in a screw-top plastic test tube thingy.
Lynn is 45 and Megan is 40 at this point in the timeline
I was 43 when I was diagnosed, so I guess Megan will change her mind in three years.
Because that’s totally how it works.
Also, apologies to Megan for misspelling her name in my previous comment.