You don't mourn the death, you celebrate the life.
(GG is the hottie sitting down ;)
That's what I'm telling myself, anyway. It's weird being that person in the room that people don't know how to act around because they just lost someone.
This morning my great-grandmother, who we nicknamed "GG" passed away in Jamaica. My immediate reaction was one of depression and anger because I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her since I don't even have a passport, nor do I have the money to travel overseas. I kept thinking about the last time I had seen her - four years ago? 4 years ago I was nothing like I am now. I was 17, spoiled rotten, and such a little ball of fire combined with this know-it-all attitude.
Then I remembered that even though that was the last time she physically saw me, we had spoken on the phone since then. She had told me only a few weeks ago how proud she was of me for being the first in my generation to graduate college. She told me to "keep sweet", and she had even spoken to J (even though I was panicking about that too because she was under the false impression that we were engaged, but whatever). Now looking back on it, I'm glad she had a chance to speak to him. She had no idea who he was but loved him just because he loved me, lol.
Part of me wishes I could tell her how sorry I am for not calling more often, and when I did call for only speaking to her briefly because I had difficulty understanding her accent. Part of me wishes I could tell her that I'm not angry about my 13th birthday and that the 8-weeks I spent with her in Jamaica - complaining non-stop about the heat and mosquitoes and overall lack of civilization at the time - was actually one of the greatest learning experiences I've ever had. I wish I could tell her that I'm going to take care of my grandmother, who was like her best friend, and that I promise, promise, promise I'll learn how to cook.
Even though I can't tell her these things, I want to celebrate the good from her life. She was 94-years-old when she passed away. That means she had 94-years with her daughter, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. She was the kind of person who I never looked at in terms of her age because she was always so lively. She was never one of those people who you'd dread asking how they were doing because they'd go on and on about all the pain they were in. She was always so independent (runs in the family) and would instead want to talk about how you were doing.
My siblings and I would always joke that GG was going to outlive us and while we knew this wasn't realistic, we still held onto that belief because it brought us peace. Now that it's happened, I'm just reminding myself that now she's not in any more pain. R.I.P, GG.