Left and Leaving

We got the news last night that my grandma died. It makes me so sad to type those words. She was one of those people who never wanted you to think she was sick or feeling awful; she hated if people thought of her as old. But she'd been in and out of the hospital lately, discharged only a couple days ago with 15 different medications to take. I talked to her on her birthday, less than a week ago when she was in the hospital surrounded by cakes people brought, and she sounded cheerful if a bit overwhelmed by the attention. I'm glad she didn't linger, as I'm sure she would have wanted to be remembered as just that: cheerful and happy to be with all the family. But, still.

I was in the middle of preparing eggs to be devilled when my mom called last night. I'd just cut the first egg in half, and the two yellow yolks had to sit there open, staring at the ceiling. We'll be taking a trip to Tulsa in the next few days and I'm sure it will hit me with full force when we're there with all the family, all seven of her kids with their kids (and their kids) and no one will be able to turn away from the sheer amount of family she brought into existence.

Bah. I don't know if anything turns your mind to mush and your fingers to rubber faster than grief.