On January 1, 2017 at 7:03pm I watched my grandma take her last breath.
It's been two weeks since her fall, and one week since her stroke, so we knew it was coming, but it was still hard. These last two weeks have be a whirlwind of hospitals, nurses, phone calls, and family. I've done things I would have never thought I'd be able to do, and have been both stronger and more vulnerable than I thought possible.
Death has never really been a big deal for me. Everyone dies, it's just a fact of life. You get a little sad because you'll miss them and then you just move on, no big deal. But this feels...different. I feel sad, and tired, and sick, and like I can't breath, and just...really sad. Like I can't snap out of it. Is this what grief feels like? It sucks.
I'll miss my Grandma Honey, but I know she's in a better place now with no pain, and no sadness, hanging out with her mom and her friends (and maybe she'll see Debbie Reynolds, she'd really like that). Rest in piece grandma, and I hope wherever you are they have ice cream, because if they don't I know we'll never head the end of it when we finally get there.