One last thing

Thinking of my grandmother, who died just a little less than a year ago--August 10th will be the anniversary of her death. I miss her.



Peace. Good night.

My flamingo plant

is finally blooming for the first time since I got it two years ago. Yay! I had gotten one for my grandmother years ago and it stayed blooming, even in her room at the nursing home, most of the time she was there. I miss her. This month she would have been 91. It was the first time in a very long time that I didn't go to Danville to visit for her birthday. It's hard to believe it will soon be a year since she passed. But I remember her when I see certain plants and birds, as she loved both. :)

I went for my interview

and while I was maybe a little weak on one or two questions out of twelve, I think I did very well, and I was nervous but not paralysingly so. I think I connected personally with them very well. I wore the floral skirt, a white camisole, a white vertical-pleated blouse, a white lacy long jacket, and my grandmother's pearls for luck. :) Apparently sandals are not allowed by the dress code, so if I wanted to wear any dresses or skirts I'd definitely have to get some comfortable dress shoes. But for pants I have black shoes that would fit fine. I am really excited about the prospect of working there. Please think good thoughts and keep your fingers crossed. They were interviewing today and then it goes to human resources. Oh, I hope I get it.

This is my last day off before returning to work on Monday. It's been a long, sad, and, at times difficult, few days. But I'm going to take some time today for recuperation from the stress of the funeral and such. I miss my grandmother, of course, and want some time to reflect. But also I feel drained from the visitation, funeral, and yes, even the interview. So for right now, I'm going to drink some more water, take a nap, and then putter around the house and maybe do something fun like read or watch a show later.

I'm home

from my grandmother's funeral. It's been a sad and long couple of days, but it was good to see my family. I just wish it had been under better circumstances. She is at peace, at least, and she lived a long life. She looked beautiful in the pink dress she had chosen to be buried in, and I have a carnation from the spray that matched that I'm going to press in remembrance. I'm still not sure it's fully hit me that she's gone. I'm sure it will, though.

Requiescat in pace

Marjorie Rhodella Lamb Craig
May 29, 1924 - August 10, 2014
When she was born, they thought she was stillborn. She wasn't breathing. They put her aside, and somehow, miraculously, she started breathing. I remember her telling me that story so many years ago. And yet despite that early moment of doubt, she lived another ninety years. From feisty, mischievous child to the young wife and mother to whom my grandfather longed to return while stuck with tanks in the volcanic sands of Iwo Jima, who raised three children, several foster children, to the woman who was there so much when I (the child pictured) was very young and my father was overseas in Vietnam and my mother went through nursing school and night jobs, she was the backbone of our family. She bore the brunt of discord when the same child, now a sullen young teenager whose parent's marriage had fallen apart, came to live with her during high school. In some ways we were just too much alike, I guess. But she bore it with grace and always loved me anyway. She knew tragedy (her father was killed by a train in the 1950s, her sister by domestic violence, another was lost to cancer in her 40s). But she persevered. I swear to you that if you misbehaved flames rose up in those dark black eyes--you simply knew it was time to stop whatever you were doing. She cooked wonderful mashed potatoes, and barely sat down to enjoy a meal because she was waiting on everyone else. I have so many memories of my Ma spilling around in my head right now, trying to convince me that she is not yet gone. But she is. Sometime this week there will be visitation, a funeral. She will join my grandfather in the grave. But I have my memories, and some pictures, and a few things of hers to cling to. I knew this was coming; I made my peace with her long ago, and said goodbye. It doesn't make it any easier at all. She was like a second mother to me and a kind of glue in our family, and with her death there is just my mom and me in the area; my aunts and uncles and cousins are hundreds of miles away, to be brought together, no doubt, for a short time due to her death and funeral.

I am sad, even though I know it was a fairly peaceful death. I miss Ma already, so much. But people remain alive for us in our memories. I can still hear my grandfather's voice, and that of my other grandmother, and hers will join theirs. I know the pain will get better over time. But this night, this week, is going to be a difficult one, for me, for my mother, who was with her, for all my family. Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers.

Please keep my family in your thoughts today

I just got off the phone with my mother, who told me that my grandmother, who is 90 years old and in hospice, is not expected to live throughout the day. I offered to come on home, but she said she probably wouldn't know me, and in any case may die before I could get there--about an hour's drive away. So I expect I'll get a sombre phone call later today. My grandmother has been in ill-health for some time, and it would be a freeing of the spirit from a body that is worn and tired, but it doesn't make it any easier to watch, and my mother is doing that duty at the moment. I said my goodbyes to my grandmother when she knew who I was and could appreciate it fully. But it's still sad. She is my last grandparent living; with her passing that generation is pretty much gone in my family. :( An emoticon doesn't do it justice, but words don't either. I won't try to write them.