It was 6 a.m. The phone rang.
â€œGrandma passed away last night.â€
I didnâ€™t cry.
I got the boys ready for school. I got ready for work. I followed my routine. It was Jan. 22, 2012.
A year has gone by.
I spoke with her the day before she died. She laughed. She asked about her honeys.
My grandmotherâ€™s death was sad. It wasnâ€™t tragic. She was 86 and a half. Sheâ€™d lived a full life. Sheâ€™d married a rock star. She had an army of friends â€“ both on this side of life and those waiting for her on the other. Her funeral mass was packed to the gills.
And it seemed only fitting that the funeral director announced a reception for â€œWendyâ€ would be held following the service (totally not her name).
A year ago and today, Southern California boasted a balmy 80 degrees following a serious cold snap â€“ as though she was making sure we all knew she was somewhere on the other side sitting on the beach sipping a fruity beverage of the adult variety.
â€œMy kind of weather!â€ she would have declared. â€œTime for a tan and a chocolate. Suck it January.â€
Everyone handles loss in a different way. Some cry. Some pack their emotions down and withdraw. Seven stages of grief and all.
Losing a grandparent is not unexpected. Circle of life and all. (Still pisses me off.)
I still think about her. Hell â€“ I named my kid after her. (That would be Search.)
And in the words of my cousin Nancy:
Its a cottage cheese, See’s Candy and Somewhere over the Rainbow Day. It is also fitting that Camarillo broke the heat record yesterday and is set to do it again today. â™¥ and great memories W
Things donâ€™t always play out the way they â€œshould,â€ but nevertheless, some people touch our lives in a way that never leave us. No matter what.