so i joked (seemingly uncharacteristic, right? har. har.) about posting this, well, post. i just don't know what to do with this anymore. and yet i decided, despite who reads it and who doesn't, who in my real life has discovered this wonderful outlet, well....
okay. so. picture me, in the hospital, visiting my grandmother for three days. three. long. days.
can i re-iterate? is that how you properly spell it? grammar is my strong point and yet i make a faux pas. forgive. forgive.
so i thought about not posting. then i thought more about it. sorry, if i'm 'all over the page', but truly? i'm confused.
my grandmother died yesterday.
you'd think that i had a HUGE relationship with her, right? for the fact that i drove all over sunday to get to her, to see her intubated, to cry with my aunt who is more like my sister than i can ever say- to the point that i call her daughter my neice, and she is my sister- you'd think i had a great connection.
point is, i didn't. i spoke, freely, openly, about how i despised the fact that she was slowly killing herself. that she gave up on life at only 40 and decided to enable her son to be a deadbeat. i spoke out, a lot, about how i hated what she did. how she chain smoked and drank tall boys out of plastic glasses so that no one would notice.
ha. we ALL noticed.
i went on, and on, and on, about how i hated it, how i hated that she threw away life.
did i mention that she had five children? my mother is the eldest of five. she was first, then her brother who, ....well, i'm being honest as hell here so really? my uncle is just a drug addict. then move on the next one, the next uncle, the one that enabled my grandmother (tho she could always speak for herself) to become a drunk and a failure.
failure. what a nasty, nasty word, isn't it funny that i'm still negative? i'm still judging?
shame on me.
so then came angie, and i love that girl more than the world. she's more like my sister than an aunt. she's just a few years older than i am and i love her more than i could ever articulate.
then there's joey, he's the youngest, and i love him like a brother.
our family? yeah. we're a little skewed. but would life give me anything else? if not skewed?
where was i going?
point is, the shocking thing is... i am broken up. i am sad. i am crying at a moments notice and remembering my grandma and it's like a shock thru my entire system. okay, grandmas die. PEOPLE die. it's what we do. but..
still, i saw her, or, i should say i saw her body. after she passed. died. left. retired. ran off. i saw her. i saw her, in the hospital bed, i saw her, and i can tell you right now that it left a crater in my heart. i don't know why i'm posting this, except maybe, it'll help.
i miss her . and the most pissed off thing about this is, i never told her. i. never. told. her.
i haven't said i love you to my grandma in years, bc i felt resentment, anger, whatever. and i know she understands, but yet, what would it have taken from me? to say, HEY, i love you? yo, granmoms, i love you?
nothing. it would have taken, nothing, from me.
and to see her, dead, ........ dead takes on a whole new meaning.
i am upset, sad, regretful, shameful.
i love you, phyllis, i loved you. i'm sorry i never added up to a very good grandkid, but i loved you.
i hope you and grandpa are having a great, super, amazing party up there. you deserve it. and to all of you? i'm sorry that i haven't written. it is more out of shame than anything else.
phyllis skroko, june 20th, 2009.
you will be missed.