A few weeks ago, on Father’s Day, my step-grandfather died. I found out while at work, and I ended up leaving work because I wasn’t sure if my parents would want me home for the memorial service or anything of that sort. I ended up staying here in Indiana, because they figured I’d be coming out in two weeks anyway to go to the Cape.
Well, I found out some more sad news yesterday.
My grandmother, my mom’s mother that was married to my stepgrandfather, died yesterday evening. I found out late last night, and I’m still in shock about it. I didn’t think she’d be dying so soon, because she always seemed to be active and full of life. She played bingo 4 or 5 times a week, and she volunteered at the hospital for a number of years. She’d come over to play cards on Saturday nights, and we’d go over to her house on Christmas morning to open presents.
I’m going to be flying home tomorrow instead of Thursday. The funeral’s on Thursday, the wake tomorrow when I arrive home. We’ll still be going to the Cape after the funeral, which we’ll all need, I’m thinking.
I still can’t believe it. When my brother told me the news last night I thought he was joking around with me, as sad as that is. I wish I had gotten to say goodbye to her before she died. I hadn’t seen her since January, before I went back to Indiana for this past semester.
I’m happy she lived a good life, and now she’ll be with my grandfather (who died in 1993; she married Pops, my step-grandfather, in 1996) and with Pops again.