So as of a few hours ago, my beautiful, wonderful, exceptional grandmother passed away. She died safe and sound in her bed, not under the sterile fluorescent lights of a hospital room or in a drug induced haze and neglected in a nursing home. She was 98, and in good health otherwise; it was just her time. Last night we received the news from a hospice worker that came to my parents house where she lived that my grandmother potentially had two or three weeks. Unfortunately this was not the case. I havent been home in six months and was due to come home in two weeks to see her, again, not the case. My grandmother had a troubled life and a troubled mind plagued by mental illness, and it often times made it very difficult for our family. She would get angry, throw things, cut her face out of pictures. She would stand out in the rain and call for her mother to take her, accuse family of conspiracies and plots. If you did something to cross her, you made her list; weve all been on it at least once. She was difficult, she was stubborn, she was irascible, and for as many times as there were things that hurt, there were double the amount of things that made us love her. She loved to sing and dance. She was funny. Her childhood stories were vivid and fantastic and entertaining and she could make you yearn for times that seemed simpler. When she laughed it was always a belly laugh, even if whatever happened wasnt that funny. She was blunt and up front and unabashedly shameless. She didnt care what anyone thought about her. She was fiercely loyal to her family and friends. She loved her grandchildren. She was stubborn and set in her ways, sometimes to her detriment and others, but she was nothing if not consistent in that. She was beautiful and vibrant and even in her darkest hours she shone bright and bold and everyone she encountered has been left blessed to have had her in their life, whether it was for a minute, or for the 26 years I got to spend knowing her and loving her, sometimes bothered by her but always loving her. My grandmother died today. Ill never speak to her again, or see her again. Ill never get to ask her to tell me a story again. Ill never get to introduce her to a boyfriend and shell never see me walk down an aisle, shell never meet my future children. My grandmother wasnt a traditional one. But I would never, ever take back the privilege of knowing her or of loving her, or being loved by her. 26 years was not enough. Jennie DeAngelo Capello, you are loved and you will live forever.
Posted on: Thu, 13 Nov 2014 05:49:22 +0000
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