"The only fun thing we did was recess," she said, glumly. "And the monster rules. And coloring in the monster. And resource. And reading, of course."
Gosh. What a bummer of a day. Aheh.
"I'm going to write tonight," I told Matt.
"Okay," he said.
I didn't, actually. But I copied an old unfinished project into a new file and read through it and made edits, and so now I'm all prepared to continue working on it. I'm trying not to plan it out too far in advance, because that seems to kill my projects. So maybe we'll just see where it goes. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
My parents made it down to Atlanta on Tuesday, and have spent some time with my Grandmom. The email I got from Dad yesterday said she managed to wake up for five or ten minutes while they were there Tuesday evening, and while she was awake they managed to spoon-feed her a little bit of water and maybe a spoonful of a liquid nutrition supplement -- which was all she'd had that day in the way of food and water. So I don't think she's going to last too much longer.
I really appreciate everyone who sent kind words yesterday (and over the weekend) via various media. It's sad, but it's not a tragedy, even at a personal level. She's not being cut off in the prime of life. She doesn't appear to be in any pain or even discomfort. I was able to see her just a couple of weeks ago, and she knew who I was and I got to hug and kiss her and tell her that I love her, so I won't feel like I failed to say goodbye. Most importantly, it's been several years since she's been the Grandmom that I grew up with and cherished so fiercely (she was, beyond a doubt, my favorite grandparent, just as I was the -- unspoken, but unmistakable -- favorite grandchild). So I'm feeling a little sad for her end, and it's making me a bit scatterbrained and distracted, but I'm mostly getting on with life -- the bad and the good.
I just got word, literally as I was starting this next section, that Grandmom died last night. The nursing home called my uncle and my dad this morning, and Dad called me just now, at 9:45.
I don't know if I'll be going down there, or when. Dad promised to call me back when they, themselves, know more.
Goodbye, Grandmom. I'll miss you.