It’s been a very odd week, guys and gals. A whirlwind weekend of Con-going, wedding-attending, and birthday-partying (for a 1-year-old, mind you) has landed me in bed for most of the week – but I was kind of expecting it. I knew what I was getting into before last weekend even started.

What I wasn’t expecting was getting a abrupt text message that my 97-year-old great grandmother had passed on.

For as much fun as I had this weekend, there was a big chunk of bittersweet sadness that lined every laugh that I had on Sunday. Honestly, were it not for the fact that I had bought my husband a ticket to the day’s festivities, we probably wouldn’t have gone. I was torn. I knew I had to be a good little blogger and cover the Con – and I did. It was a lovely distraction, but a distraction never the less.

She will always be my favorite “little grandma.” In fact she’s my only “little grandma.” A feisty 97 year-old who stood at a whopping 4′ 8” and could give as good as she gets. She was always full of smiles during our annual Thanksgiv-a-christmas – which was one of the few times she came to visit. With a dry whit, she would always knock me sideways with the unexpected joke, but she was always a sweet lady with the best hugs.

In the last few years, that feisty whippersnapper I knew and loved had started to fade. Her dementia and Alzheimers got progressively worse. She started to have more strokes and fainting spells. When she was clear headed it was as if nothing had changed, but when she wasn’t… she didn’t know me. Granted, when you get up into your nineties your body has been through a lot and just like everything else things start to wear down and break. She was tired, and rightly so.  It is bittersweet, but she is finally able to rest.

I wasn’t able to attend her service yesterday, due to me being pretty much bedridden from this past weekend events (spoon-loss and Con-SARS). My folks went, and I was there in spirit, but there is just something about being able to say goodbye in person — even though I hate funerals. They are so finite. Funerals are more for the living. We are jealous creatures and want to spend as much time as we can with the ones we love. Loss sucks. It’s a balled up pain in my chest that I try to distract myself from… yet it sneaks up at the worst possible time. Like right now, so I’m writing this post.

I spoke with my Dad tonight. He told me that her service went well. That it was packed full of those who loved her. She touched many lives and was full of life and love.

I’m glad she was (and still is) my “little grandma.” She will always be with me – I guess that means I should be on my best behavior. And even though I miss her terribly, she is dancing and singing with all of our other relatives that have passed on and one day, far from now, I will be able to give her a hug once more.

I love you little Grandma.

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**Sorry if this post is a little scattered. I am a little scattered this week**

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