When I learned that my Grandma June passed away on Thursday, September 17, I was devastated. I didn't want to believe it was true- I wanted it to be a big mean joke. I did know the truth though, and I didn't bother trying to hold back the tears. I cried over the phone with Cassandra, I cried in the shower, I cried on the metro (I tried to cover that one up as best as I could though), I cried in the coffee shop (it's called Coffee Heaven so it doesn't let you ignore the truth) and I cried in front of a few of my peers once I got to school. At that point the rest of the world didn't matter. I lost the only grandmother I had ever known, and to make it worse I was alone in a foreign country thousands of miles away from my family. I really needed them, whether they knew it or not, and I felt guilty that I didn't have a way to offer them my support. I knew that since I was just starting school, and was half way around the world, my chances were slim for going home. Slim chance or not, that night once I returned to my dorms, I became determined to make it home to be with my family and go to Grandma's funeral. I wanted to make sure I would be able to say my final goodbye to Grandma since I couldn't while she was still alive.
God I miss her. If you've never known Grandma personally, there is a very special chunk of life you've missed out on. Grandma had always been a crafty woman, not only with objects like her afghans, but also with her remarks and conversations. She had a great sense of humor, and when she would crack jokes I knew she was enjoying her life at that exact moment. It made me happy when I knew she was happy. What cracks me up about her the most is how much of a huge flirt she was. She had a special place in her heart for doctors and paramedics, and she had no qualms about letting them know this. Since she was a tiny old lady her advances were more adorable than anything. I loved it when I was a kid and I would go visit her and my Grandpa. She always made me poached eggs on toast, which to this day is still my favorite egg style ever. I remember every once in a while she would give me a really serious look, grab my hands, and tell me that she wanted me to know she loved me. She did that a lot recently come to think of it, so my guess is she knew her time was coming to a close. She lived a very long life and created a huge loving family, so it's up to me and everyone else who feels lost because of her death to realize that it is all okay, and that it's best to celebrate her life and her memory rather than dwell over the fact that she's gone.
Right now I'm back in Alaska, and I'm trying to make the most out of being here as I can. Tomorrow the family will attend Grandma's viewing, and the day after we'll have the funeral, burial, and memorial gathering at my Aunt Cindy's house. Once that's over I'll still have a couple days to spend in Fairbanks, so I'm going to take advantage of the cool weather and fallen leaves and appreciate being home. The lfight back to Budapest on Saturday is going to seem longer than ever before.
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