Closure

Today was the funeral. Sort of surreal, like I was outside of my body, watching someone else attempting to hold it together... I don't think it's really sunk in yet. It was so sudden.

Though this might sound terrible, I think the reason I've been very emotional about my grandmother's death has centered around its effect on my family members, my father and grandfather in particular. The only other time I've seen my dad cry was when we had to put down our cat, Coquette, a few years ago. There's just something about seeing others in pain that makes me distressed. Don't get me wrong, I miss my grandma. I'm sad that she's no longer with us, but watching my grandpa struggle with his wife's death when he can barely breathe and his kidneys are failing... is pretty hard.

I have to say, I was surprised and touched when my nine-year-old cousin Mallory started crying. I think she's just old enough to understand the impact, while her younger siblings are too young to grasp the concept of death. Zachary, who just turned four, kept asking, "Is grandma in the box? Is grandma in there?" Children are so honest, so candid. I think sometimes they help everyone take themselves a little less seriously. I know watching him during the service helped me stay somewhat collected.

During the visitation, I spent some time looking at the pictures of my grandma when she was younger. She was very pretty in all of them - her high school picture, her playing field hockey, and her wedding photo with my grandpa, who I must say, was incredibly dashing himself. I've decided I must have inherited my "puffy cheeks" from both sides of the family, because she had them and so does my mom. I guess I'm okay with that, heh.

And I guess now is the point where I start to move on. I think I'm almost ready.