My Grandma Hawthorne died last weekend. It was a really sad time for everyone. For Grandpa, especially. They were married for more than half a century. I can’t imagine what it must be like for him.
On the positive side of it, she died peacefully at home. She didn’t suffer at all. She had been pretty sick and we all knew that the time was coming, sooner or later. But, I guess you never can be prepared enough for something like this.
I guess the hardest part was seeing her there, at the wake. I haven’t had much death in my family. My Great-Grandmother died when I was really young, probably around 5 years old. She was 102! I hardly remember any of it. I think I can kind of remember standing next to my mom under a black tent while the priest talked. But that’s about it.
It’s just a really strange feeling, seeing someone at a wake. You look at them, thinking about them when they were alive, and how it just doesn’t seem like they’re gone. You’re looking at them right in front of you. In the back of your head you think maybe she’ll wake up.
I did get to see a lot of family that I haven’t seen in a long time. I suppose that’s one good thing that came out of it. After the funeral, we went to a place in Saratoga called the Bachelor Mansion where there was food, drinks and everyone got to sit and talk with each other. I guess you could call it a party, celebrating Grandma’s life. She lived to be 88 – a long, full life.
It made me think a lot about family. I don’t get to spend very much time with my family, because of where I live. It’s quite a drive from Syracuse to Hudson Falls. And with mine and Joanna’s work schedules, it makes it even more difficult – not even taking into account gas prices.
I don’t know. I guess I’m just glad this week is over, and that Grandma has moved on to a better place. Reminds me of the words in that Brad Paisley song, “When I Get Where I’m Going.”
When I get where I’m going, there’ll be only happy tears.
When I get where I’m going, don’t cry for me down here.