People keep dying around me...

[itsemmie]

I lost my Grandmother and best friend on September 19, 2021. In the midst of already grieving.

For context. My parents divorced when I was around nine years old. My Dad worked a lot and my Mom was rarely ever around due to addiction. After the divorce my Dad became very depressed. Dad always took care of us and we had what we needed. But he had become very emotionally distant. We have a much better relationship now, but it was hard for a long time.

In 2012 my Dad and I moved back to his hometown, over two thousand miles from everything I had ever known. We moved in with my Grandmother. She and I got really close, and she knew things about me that nobody else did simply because she had gone through similar experiences in her childhood. Everyone else treated her strangely, they wouldn't have real conversations with her and brushed her off because she wasn't able to hear sometimes. They just weren't patient enough. For me, I could sit with her for hours. I remember days when I would just sit next to her on the couch as she told me stories about her life and our family. Loads of them I'd heard over and over again, but it didn't matter. I just loved hearing her talk and seeing her smile... hearing her laugh. 

Fast forward to 2021. After the events of 2020, my Grandmother had all but boarded herself into her house. We didn't live with her anymore. I rarely ever saw her. Then I started dating a guy (we'd been friends for a while).. let's just say, he wasn't the best person, albeit he did try his best at times. So most of 2021 was spent with him, and I had no time for my family because he demanded all of my time. This meant I also didn't see my Grandma. Earlier in the year we found out that my older sister was pregnant - my Dad's first grandbaby! She was living in the state we left in 2012. We figured we would surprise her and fly out to see her and meet the baby. Planned the trip for a couple weeks after her due date. Grandma told my Dad that she didn't think she'd ever see that baby - so he invited her to come with. 

He turned out to be very stubborn and was born the day of the trip, we had booked it a month in advance and weren't about to change it. Sister still had no idea we were coming. He was born while we were on the last flight in, on Friday. I remember Dad showing us all pictures she'd sent to him, and then she sent them to me and I showed them to Grandma. Because of state regulations due to covid, we had to wait to see them until they left the hospital. Saturday they were still in the hospital, Dad and I decided to stop at the church I went to as a kid. It was nice to surprise people we hadn't seen in years. Grandma stayed at the house we were renting because she wasn't feeling well - she was convinced she had just eaten to much that day.

Saturday evening we got back to the house and the only thing she could say was "I need help," Dad froze so I took the initiative. I told him to call 911, sent boyfriend (at the time) out into the street so he could direct the ambulance where to go, and I sat with Grandma trying my best to comfort her while shaking myself from anxiety. The ambulance people came and we tried our best to stay out of the way - although I did have to excuse one of them because another was asking about any medications she took and the one I excused was stood where her bag was, with all her meds in it. They were understandable about that. They got Grandma into the ambulance and we weren't able to go with (Again, covid). I called my aunt (she's the #1 person on Grandma's medical information).

Just after 2 AM Sunday, while we all laid in our beds staring at the ceiling and answering phone calls left and right... the call came. It was my Aunt. She had been on the phone with the doctors. Grandma had an abdominal aneurism, it had burst and filled her stomach. Grandma had decided long before that if she ever had to get an operation and had less then 50% chance of recovery, she'd want us to let her go. The doctors would've needed to take her to another hospital for an operation, and they said there was absolutely no way with how far she already was. My Auntie explained how the hospital had her on a ventilator and that they would allow us into the emergency room to say our goodbyes. I still remember her asking if I was still there because I didn't respond. I told her "okay," and we all piled into the car for the silent ride over. 

My sister still didn't know we were there. We wanted to surprise her, but I couldn't just not tell her Grandma was dying... in the same hospital where her little boy was just born. So in one phone call I had to tell her "Surprise, we came to see you! And also, hey Grandma is downstairs dying and I wanted you to know incase you wanted to say goodbye," (not quite that insensitive, but you get the point) after she had just given birth to her first child. My sister never made it downstairs, there just wasn't any time (she had a c-section and also emergency was dangerous due to the virus). Grandma was already out of it by the time we got there, she wasn't in any pain. I know she was ready to go, even though we weren't ready for her to go. In one hand I held her frail hand, and with the other I held a photo of my sweet, two day old, nephew. Dad stood and tried his best to be strong, and nearly broke as he brushed his Mother's hair back. We're not an intimate family, so that's not normal for him, but I understand why he did it. Before I knew it a nurse was coming in to turn off the monitor. My best friend was gone.

The next day was her birthday, and the day we finally got to meet that sweet little boy. Would've been a perfect birthday gift for her. She was right after all about not meeting him.

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At the airport my Dad read her obit (she wrote it herself - she had it all planned out). I broke down crying because the line about other loved ones lost included my brothers name. In the hospital that's exactly what I told my Dad when the monitor was no longer detecting her heart beat.. I realized then that she hadn't met my nephew, but she was now meeting my big bother. We had to leave her there because of state laws. Going onto the plane without her was strange, not having a Grandma to take care of just didn't feel right. She always needed us to help her, only then she didn't anymore.

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It took a few weeks before we could have a funeral - on October 2nd. She passed September 19th, her birthday was September 20th (Dad and I even planned a celebration...). We flew back on September 21st. I tested covid positive the following Monday. The 29th was my birthday, and I couldn't taste my birthday cake (that my Aunt worked so hard to make, it was beautiful). Her funeral was on October 2nd and we missed it because we were in quarantine (Dad and brother to, even though they didn't test - they were exposed to me). Dad and Auntie even asked me to write her eulogy because of how close we were and Dad always likes my writings. I did, and my cousin gave it at her funeral.

Boyfriend and I broke up in November. I couldn't grieve and take care of him at the same time (he kept saying I didn't have to take care of him, but it's in my nature to, I can't just turn it off). Loved ones around me also helped me put into perspective that he wasn't the best of guys, helped me see things I kept excusing or ignoring. 

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May 2019 my Grandfather (Moms side) died after a semester of fighting illness. I quit college because of an injury (that I now know is life long, I will never be able to run again and it is extremely painful to walk. I'm nearly 25 years old and am already using a cane to function). Left everything I had fallen in love with (another 2k miles from home). Flew back to where my Dad lives (am still there now). Early 2020 we lost our family dog, and then my dog as well. Monroe. I know she's an animal, but she was always there for me. Followed me everywhere, was my little companion. We took her to the vet and they told us her system had just given up, she was getting old. Dad let me make the decision to put her down because she was my dog, and had chosen me. I gave her up because I didn't want her to suffer anymore just to give me a few more weeks with her. In late 2020 my Grandma (other Grandma, Moms side) got covid.. and on April 17, 2021 (an exact year, to the day, that Monroe died) she left this earth. In September 2021 my Grandma died from an aneurism, and also my cousin (Moms side) died from covid and pneumonia. In October a childhood friend of mine was in a car accident and also died. In November I quit online college because of ptsd and grief becoming too much to handle school on top of, and also broke up with my boyfriend (who I was sure was going to be my husband, up until my eyes were opened by loved ones). It has been a lot... it has oftentimes been way too much to handle. My heart is absolutely overwhelmed.

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 I hear Grandma's voice often - calling me at random times of the day. She use to do that when she was alive.. she'd ask me to bring her her billfold or her warm cup of water from the microwave (I say water because she'd reuse teabags until it was basically hot water), little things. Everyone else calls me Emmie now (that's the name I prefer), but she always used my birth name... it's painful now to hear my birth name because whenever someone uses it now, it just reminds me of her. She's everywhere... from clothes I wear that she bought me, to photos, to homemade quilts.. she's in the words I speak, different phrases. Sometimes I just hear someone say something and my mind is instantly taken back to times I spent with her, or the day she died. 

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Auntie gave me a gift for Christmas that she'd saved. It was from Grandma. A shirt she got for me. I just took it out of the package today because I planned on wearing it to church... and I cried what felt like an ocean of tears. I just needed to get all of this out. I just miss her so much. I feel so alone... I'm so tired of people dying around me. I can't always pretend to be this strong person anymore.