Love and hugs,
Mom


Well, after a tiring vacation in Colorado, where everyone had a ball but me, we get home, and the next day I get a phone call. My grandmother is dying, it's only a matter of time. She had lapsed into a coma, and her kidnies had failed. There was no coming back.
After a grouling week of waiting, worrying and wondering, Friday morning came along, my mother and I had just talked earlier in the day about if we were coming to Alabama for the funeral. I told her yes, of course I would be there. The woman was like a mother to me. I grew up living right behind her. Spent countless summers and afernoons at her house, how could I not go to my own grandmother's funeral?
Around 11:30 Friday morning, I got the call. She passed away. I didn't know how to feel, or what to do. I went and got the kids from school and started packing. Not knowing if Tim would be able to come or not, I practically begged him, even though I didn't have to. He wanted to be there for us, and I knew I couldn't get through it without him.
I don't know what was harder, seeing a shell of a woman that I once knew lying in the coffin, or the fact that the shell of the woman looked nothing like the woman I remembered. Visitation was horrible, but the funeral was much worse. I guess it really sank in when the first song played at the funeral was one I asked my mother to have played, "Go Rest High on that Mountain," usually preformed by Vince Gill. Then to see them shut the coffin....destroyed me. It was over then, she was gone. My beautiful grandmother was gone. And she was beautiful all the way to her soul.
If I hadn't had Tim and Daph both with me at those very moments, I would have died from a broken heart right then. No matter what any of the children or grandchildren might have or would have said, I was like a daughter to her, nothing would even be arranged until it was sure I would be there. I had a say in the flowers, the music, and other small things. The little things that were left to do anyway.
Then as a final blow to my heart, my favorite song was the last to be sung. "Amazing Grace." I sat, crying for the first real time, throughout the entire funeral. I had already been so stressed out from everything before that, and now, I've lost the woman who meant almost as much to me as my own mother. I don't know who it was, but someone right behind me at the funeral passed me up a Kleenex. God bless that person! Before it was all over with I could have used four!
We're home now, hopefully things will start to get back to normal and I can put that part behind me. I want to only remember the good things. The smiles, the laughter and the love. The eternal love she gave me, and I still have for her.
Thank you to those of you who already knew and remembered our family in your prayers, and thank you for all of your loving support. Knowing I have friends like all of you makes me happy.

My love to all,
Mom


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Love to all my friends!!!
Mom