Never in single spies ...

... but in whole freakin' battalions, as my man Willie S. would put it.

Or not.

Anyway, another tick on the Family Misfortune Meter. This time it's Grandmaman.

Over the last couple of weeks, it's been slip + fall = broken hip, surgery, and as of Wednesday last, pneumonia. Maman was out of town, so when the phone rang on my desk Friday afternoon it was Sis calling from the home. The family was being summoned and hospice had been called in.

*sigh*

She's not gone yet, but all signs point to 'soon.' And yes, that's the Viking's professional opinion, too. Likely today or tomorrow.

I'm sort of numb. Not because I love my grandmother so much, but because I've finally reached the point where I was at peace with not liking her very much and now I feel bad for not feeling more sorrowful. I talked a bit with Sis last night and she's pretty much at the same place I am emotionally, which does make me feel better, as in many ways she is a better person than I.

I guess what I'm feeling is regret that I can't be more sorrowful. After all the years of emotional abuse (to me, to Sis, and especially to Maman) I really don't have any reason to be. If I'm sorrowful about anything, it's that I didn't have a grandmother I could really love and, in time, mourn.

And so, numb.

Maman is taking it hard, of course, though she's holding up like the champ she is. Most of what Sis and I talked about last night was what we needed to do to make Maman's life easier while all this shakes down and sorts out.

verso - recto