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greenie_breizhWent to see my great grandma today, with my family, since I can't attend the funeral on Monday, what with being in Paris and all. She was lying on her bed at her old people's house. Turns out she died in an operation because it was the second one in 24 hours she was getting. Probably was best for her, she was 94 and even though she still had perfect use of her brain, it was just getting hard. You can't help your body from becoming exhausted. She was - just very still. Toying with the thought she just wasn't going to open her eyes was strange.
My mom said that when my grandma died, when I was 6 and a half, I was the one who insisted going to the funeral. I also put drawings I did for her in her coffin. I used to draw for her room in the hospital. I just wanted to write it down somewhere. I kinda wish I go back in time and see how Little Me dealt with it. I remember parcels of it, but it's blurry and I wonder if parts of it I didn't just make up. But somehow, it makes me feel good. To think that I thought about giving my grandma something when she died.
I wonder why I can still cry thinking of her. How much memory and imagination are part of it.
My mom said that when my grandma died, when I was 6 and a half, I was the one who insisted going to the funeral. I also put drawings I did for her in her coffin. I used to draw for her room in the hospital. I just wanted to write it down somewhere. I kinda wish I go back in time and see how Little Me dealt with it. I remember parcels of it, but it's blurry and I wonder if parts of it I didn't just make up. But somehow, it makes me feel good. To think that I thought about giving my grandma something when she died.
I wonder why I can still cry thinking of her. How much memory and imagination are part of it.
