Farewell, Gram

My last living grandparent, my Mom's Mom died early this morning. Picture above is of her and me in St George's, Newfoundland just a few years ago . . . when I had my 2nd b'day.

The phone call from the nursing centre in Halifax woke my parents and me after midnight . . . though my parents weren't swift to tell me---guess they were waiting until they knew I was awake . . . and I was so awake, waiting upstairs, that I was reading and waiting until I had to trek downstairs for the bathroom . . . after all, why else would their phone ring after midnight?

When I saw her this week I could see she was so tiny, the cancer having eaten almost everything. Just her kneecaps raising the still, burgundy-coloured blanket; her head way too close to skull-like, open mouthed from the painkillers. I watched her trying to form dad's name and mine with her near-useless mouth and tongue when she couldn't say anything. So little left of such a solid, firm, and loving woman already less than half her real weight, and so much shorter. I hope I can live up to my obligation to cracking and eating lobsters for her for many, many years to come . . .

Pic above is from August of this year, Gram now in the wheeled device, with my youngest and younger sister in the courtyard garden at Northwood. Thanks to Ruth's husband, Mike, by brother-in-law, for taking this picture with my camera.

The service will be a week Monday in the morning in Dartmouth. What with the back-to-back storms predicted for the next few days (at least one a nor'easter) I came back to Fredericton earlier than planned. My sister, Carol, is expected to fly into Halifax Intl next Saturday. I must travel there again than day, or Sunday, depending upon the weather.