![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bktheirregularThe funeral's Sunday, in the islands. My mom and my brother are flying out of New York today, arriving tomorrow morning in Athens.
I saw my grandmother yesterday evening, but she was asleep, and probably unaware of anything. The thing that struck me was how frail she looked, curled up in her bed; her hair had all gone white except for at the ends, which were probably dyed from her last visit to a hairdresser. It as as though after so many years of staving off the reaper, the time had caught up all at once.
She suffered a stroke more than a year ago, and her mind was ravaged by it; her memory was largely gone, and her cognitive processes with it. Then her body began breaking down, and there really wasn't much that could be done to heal her.
The way my mom put it, it was more a release than anything else; the last few months were pretty much agony.
And now it's over.
The last of my grandparents is gone.
I saw my grandmother yesterday evening, but she was asleep, and probably unaware of anything. The thing that struck me was how frail she looked, curled up in her bed; her hair had all gone white except for at the ends, which were probably dyed from her last visit to a hairdresser. It as as though after so many years of staving off the reaper, the time had caught up all at once.
She suffered a stroke more than a year ago, and her mind was ravaged by it; her memory was largely gone, and her cognitive processes with it. Then her body began breaking down, and there really wasn't much that could be done to heal her.
The way my mom put it, it was more a release than anything else; the last few months were pretty much agony.
And now it's over.
The last of my grandparents is gone.
