My Mamaw (mother's mother) died Wednesday night. She wasn't doing too well in the last few months suffering from dementia. My mother went down there in November to help care for her and I'm glad she got to spend a few months with her mother before she passed, even under difficult circumstances. It's not the easiest news to digest at 9 months pregnant but I'm doing pretty well to try to stay calm and not stress the baby with my grief.

Mamaw was a riot. She was a strong woman who said what she felt, often without filters. She was 89 and just had her 72nd wedding anniversary with my Papaw on Dec. 26th! She was the oldest of 10 kids in her family, most of whom are still living. She had 9 children (8 who are still with us), 26 grandchildren, 39 great-grandchildren, and 8 great-great grandchildren. Yeah, family gatherings are quite the production!

Selfishly I was hoping she would hang on just a little bit longer to see a photo of great-grandchild #40, but she was suffering and I am glad she is now at peace.

She was widely known for her sickeningly sweet 'sweet tea' and one of those women who wouldn't ask questions if some random kid walked into her kitchen asking for food. Her door was (literally) always open and folks knew they were welcome and that Mamaw would always look after them.

Good-bye Mamaw.

Opa wasn't my grandfather. He's the father of my 'babysitter'. Sylvia was the babysitter for all us kids, and we used to live next door. It's one of those deals where you kind of become family with some folks. Hence, I called her parents Oma and Opa.

On Thanksgiving day they were in a bad car accident. He never recovered from his injuries. It's sad. Good-bye Opa.

My gramma's funeral was on Tuesday. It was a very difficult day. I was holding it together pretty well until it came time to pay last respects at the funeral parlor. My little sister started sobbing and as I hugged her I lost it. Then we drove to the church. It's the same little Polish Catholic church my gramma used to take me to after Bingo. She'd always tell me we had to stop and say prayers and light the candles for people. I didn't grow up Catholic so I didn't really understand the concept. I always just thought the dying Jesus on the cross was really creepy and I was afraid he'd look at me, or worse, talk to me.

So we entered the church in procession of the funeral mass. I don't know who the guy singing was, but he was amazing. He had such an angelic voice. One thing I've always admired about Catholic churches is the architecture. The way the pipe organ and choir voices resonate throughout the building is so moving. I cry when I'm happy and hear something that beautiful. Needless to say, this is where I came unglued. Sobbing loudly, I could hardly breathe.

Again, I'm not Catholic, but once in a while I enjoy attending a mass done in Latin. I love Latin. I love chanting. It really is soothing. Like the time I went with (e:Libertad) to one of his Buddhist meetings. I almost fell asleep from the chanting. But I digress. The priest had a lovely voice as well. He did some of the mass in Latin, then a few Polish prayers and chants.

After the church we drove to the cemetery and had another Polish prayer at the mausoleum. Traditionally they don't allow you to watch as they insert the coffin into the wall, but the guy was there and eager to get his job done, so we did. She's now snuggled up with my grampa. When the guy took the flowers off her casket he said he was going to throw them out. That's what they do with them, just throw them out! What a waste. I mean, they could at least donate them to various institutions. Perhaps hospital chapels, or old folk's homes, some place where flowers would brighten the atmosphere. We didn't want to see that happen so we dismantled the arrangement and each took some flowers from it.

When that was all settled we went to a banquet hall and had a polish feast. Went home with my family afterward to chill. I played with my nephew Max for a while then played with (e:Bambicroft). Boy does she miss me and I miss her tons.

So that was the day. As sad as I am, I have to say, she had it made. Who doesn't wish that when they die, it will be peacefully, pain free, of old age, in their sleep? That's just what my gramma was granted, the chance to fall asleep and never wake up, at least not in physical terms. I don't think we ever die. We are all made of energy; call it a soul, that which cannot be extinguished.

Thanks to everyone for your condolences. I'm very appreciative of your kind words. As (e:enknot) said, it is so wonderful that this community can take the time to support one another. That is why I love estrip so much.

My mom called at about 7pm to let me know my gramma died tonight. Apparently my uncle went downstairs to watch the 6 o'clock news with her, like always, and she had died in her chair. Exactly the way my gramma found my grampa when he died.

She wasn't sick other than some arthritis in her knees so this is rather a shock. I just keep imagining her voice calling my name. She had that funny little Polish accent and said my name funny. I'd post a photo but they are on my dad's computer at home. I still haven't had the time to get them on my jump drive.

I'm so very sad.