Last week both Aron and Ambre had to deal with the death of a grandmother.
After we found out, I looked out the window and all I could think of was, “Who the hell cares if the neighbors never get their house painted more than the halfway it is now? Who cares if I never get time to work on articles? Who cares if I have a few pounds to lose? Who cares if the laundry piles up?”
None of that matters.
So I’d better quit with my “the roads work both ways” crap with my grandma and just put our 5 butts in the van and make the ½ hour trip to go see she and my grandpa. They did so much for me growing up; who cares that I made some decisions when I was younger that she didn’t agree with? Who cares that she tries to guilt me every Christmas because I decided to celebrate it at my own home with my own family? Who cares that she doesn’t like it that I do family bed and nurse my kids forever?
None of that will matter when she’s dead. If she doesn’t realize that, at least I do. That’s going to have to be enough for the both of us for now.
Aron and I have been together 13 years and haven’t had to go through a death like this yet. I don’t know what to do for him, so I do what I know makes him happy: I clean. Order helps him relax. I got all my crying out so I could focus on him. Then I offered to take the kids to the indoor play area. He was thrilled to have some time alone. I made sure he understood that I still have FOUR grandparents left, so he’ll be doing nice things like this for me many more times than I will for him. My poor husband; how does he put up with me?
Ambre’s grandma was always cool. You can read more about her here.
Aron’s grandma Della was practical, kind, down-to-earth, had 11 kids (two who died before I even met Aron; her husband also died before I met Aron), lived on a farm, had a great sense of humor and was sharp-minded right up until the end. You always felt comfortable around her.
I will miss these two grandmas.
