Grandma Notes

I thought I'd clarify that the Grandmother that is dying is my Father's Mother (Big Gram). Not my Mom's Mom (Little Gram). Little Gram is the one who makes Pizelles, always tells me I look like I've lost weight then attempts to overfeed me, has shoes that are wider than they are long, hangs out with my crazy Aunt Del, gets disgusted when I give her gifts, and who we are very close with. Little Gram is doing mostly well, though about as deaf as a doorknob.

Big Gram is the one in the hospital. We were never as close with her. Dad's side of the family, in general, tended not to acknowledge us much. Whenever I go to visit this Gram, it seems that she has pictures of all her other Grandchildren plastered all over, but none of us. I remember specifically giving her pictures because of this, then next visit - no where to be found. Am I paranoid?

My sister was always her favorite though (at least among of our little group of outcast grandchildren) and sure enough, when I went to see her last week, her first words were, "how's Sherri?". Then next couple visits, she seemed to be getting better, but Sunday she asked for only comfort care, Monday they turned off dialysis, and yesterday she slipped in to a coma. She is going peacefully and is not in pain, which makes it easier, however, the whole idea of dealing with death is still too fresh in the sense of reminders of Mom's ordeal and not having Mom to help us through.

So in an odd, indirect way, it is very traumatic.