DiStOrTeDrEaLiTy's blog: "Life"

On July 8th, 2011 the most painful and unexpected thing happened. My grandmother died. She had an aneurysm in her abdominal aorta which resulted in immediate emergency surgery on July 6th. A couple weeks prior to the surgery itself I had a clear and vivid dream about her. In my dream she never survived the surgery. That she would never leave the hospital or even the operating room. I woke up crying and out of breath. That dream had me on edge for what felt like months.
July 6th finally came and we were all holding our breaths. My mother. My sister. My brother. My grandmother's boyfriend. Even my mother's best friend. We were all terrified because of her age and her health, which at the time wasn't the greatest either. But fortunately the surgery went well and she was already on the road to recovery. When we went to visit her, it was like a house of horrors to me. My tiny 100 lbs. 5'3" grandmother was hooked up to a breathing machine, a catheter, and a couple IV's administering several drugs. She literally looked like she was on her deathbed already. I couldn't stand the sight of it. It eventually overwhelmed me and I had to leave the room. I wouldn't let her see me fall apart. I could tell she was uncomfortable with the breathing tube down her throat, not to mention frustrated that she couldn't talk. But nonetheless she pulled through the first night just fine.
The second day came and she was doing better. The breathing tube was removed and she was right back to her old cranky self. lol She never cared for hospitals. But she cooperated to the best of her abilities :). Despite the fact that they cut her open at her breastbone all the way down to her belly button, she got up and even walked to her room door and back to her bed. She always had drive and determination and it definitely showed. I was anxious to leave that day for the simple fact that I just couldn't stand seeing her like this and I still couldn't shake the dream I had. The only person who knew about it was my little sister. I wouldn't trust anyone else with that. I just had a bad feeling I couldn't get rid of. I didn't want to be there. I had to leave. So I lied and said I had things to do. My grandmother asked me if I'd be back and I said no. And the way she asked me made me feel even worse. But I just couldn't see her like this. I wanted her out of there and back home the way she was supposed to be. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. So instead I lied.
Later that night she spiked a fever and was immediately administered antibiotics and slowly her temperature came down. A few hours later I got a call from my mother. She had gone into cardiac arrest and I needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. I couldn't believe it. What went wrong? Why was this happening? What the hell is going on? The doctors performed CPR on my grandmother for over an hour. She came and went a couple times until finally leaving. They called her time of death 30 minutes before I got there. I lost my chance to say goodbye. I'll never get that chance. I made it up to her room and couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing. It wasn't real to me. My grandmother laying in a hospital bed cold and dead. I wanted her to be sleeping. To wake up and smile and then bitch at us for worrying over her. But she didn't. Her eyes never opened. Her chest never rose. She was gone. And so was my other half. I felt dead too. All I could do is collapse and scream. She was dead and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I wanted to do was take her place. I wanted her back.
The days that followed were nothing short of lifeless. No one slept and everyone was busy gathering her things and making arrangements for the funeral. Just going through the motions in a daze, hoping I'll wake up from whatever fucked up nightmare this was. But I didn't. It was real and it was actually happening. She was such a huge part of our lives and our foundation had crumbled and fell apart. We were all scattered now with no direction. What do I do now?
In the end we had two funerals. One here in Iowa where she spent the last 52 years of her life raising a family and taking care of her own. The second one was in Napoleon, North Dakota where she was born and raised and ultimately buried. I sang at both of those funerals. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. My grandmother always loved hearing me sing and we both loved LeAnn Rimes. So I chose a song by her to sing at her funerals. That was all I could give her. And I felt so selfish at that fact.
But it's all still the same. I couldn't deal with it then and almost a year later I still can't deal with it. So I just ignore it and try not to think or talk about her. The pain of her abscence is still too much. Her and I had such a strong bond. It was unbreakable. She did so much for me. I can never thank her for everything. She was there for me when no one else was. Not even my own mother. My grandmother was my mother. And when my mother died, so did a huge part of me. I'll never get to hear her voice again. I'll never get to hear about her day. I'll never get to see her in the morning drinking coffee at the kitchen table and looking out the window. I'll never hear her laugh or see her eyes light up when she smiles. I'll never get to taste her cooking again. I'll never get to bake with her again. I lost all of what I took for granted. And I hate myself for it. I'll never get to say I'm sorry. I'll never get to say I love you. She'll never get to know her great grandchildren (my nephews) and watch them grow up. She'll never be at my future wedding or be there for when I have my own children. I lost so much. What do I do now?
When she was alive I never did much to make her proud of me. I was young and dumb and did nothing but fuck up and make mistakes. I'm still making mistakes. I want her to be proud of me wherever she is. I want to be proud of myself and where I'm at in my life. But I'm not. And I don't know where to start or even what to do. I'm still picking up the pieces. And every time I do the cuts get deeper and deeper. I don't know how to put them back together. I want to talk to her. I want her advice. I want her help. I want her to tell me what to do. I want her to yell at me. I want her to scold me and ask me what the fuck I think I'm doing. I want something. But it'll never happen.
How do you deal with death? There's no step by step instructions on what to do or how to cope. You're on your own. You're left with whatever coping skills you have. Even as I'm typing this I'm crying my eyes out. But it feels good at the same time. I know I need to do this and get all this out. But it's easier to shut it away and never open it. Maybe someday it'll get better. You'd think after almost a year it would be a bit better. But it's not. It still feels like it happened yesterday and I'm still stuck in the nightmare of seeing her lifeless and having to bury her in the ground. The thought of her still breaks my heart. I miss her so much it physically hurts. My heart literally aches. And there's not a day that goes by that I don't miss her. I'll never get over losing her. No one ever gets over losing someone so close to them. It leaves a jagged, throbbing, bleeding hole in your chest that never quite heals. You just slowly patch it up from time to time and hope that the ache goes away but it never does. You're forever changed and you're forever scarred.