I saw this on my Facebook newsfeed and thought how true this is. I have had many love ones pass but none so close to me as my grandma Ross; i was the last person she talked to and her death was very sudden. At first that last day and the three short days in the hospital was all i could remember. For years, I felt so guilty that i didnt recognize the signs sooner to get her help. All the what ifs etc. etc. But then slowly I started to remember the good stuff. Like how her hair felt when I was giving her a perm so soft and fine like mine. And howd shed always say how she could just fall asleep whenever someone was combing it. Or how she explained why you could see the veins in her hands when i was a kid. Howd she hugged me and said she loved me. Her biscuits and seven course meals. The smell of her kitchen. How she cried when Michael Landon died because she didnt distinguish the actor from little Joe or Charles Ingals. How she thought every story in the Enquirer was true because it was in black and white. Just a well of memories and that well runs deep. Now Im faced with my moms illness Im going to try to skip the guilt and go right to that well.
Posted on: Fri, 18 Oct 2013 02:19:41 +0000
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