I didn't see a note on the whiteboard, so I ate a quick dinner. As I was clearing the table, I suddenly realized I ought to check my phone for messages. After digging it out, I saw that I did have a voicemail so I listened to it, and that is how I found out that my grandmother had passed away around 4:30 that afternoon.
I wish I could say I was distraught and burst into proper tears of grief, but I didn't. I'm not. As harsh and cold as it sounds...I kinda expected it. Well, expected might be a bit of a strong term for it. "Naturally extrapolated the outcome as a result of previous events" might be more accurate.
- Popo (my grandmother) was going to be 94 in July. Once a person is in their nineties, I figure the Grim Reaper has them on speed dial.
- She had fallen at some point between Friday evening and Saturday evening and was unable to get up, and had massive dehydration (that weekend the weather hit 100+, and her home has no AC) as well as serious bowel irritation. She was in bad shape when she got to the hospital.
- In the past few months she's been sleeping more and more. She has shown less interest in eating, and she would often decline or cancel invitations to visit at the last minute. She'd been "withdrawing" for a long time.
- My grandmother had been doing quite poorly at the hospital, but then Wednesday afternoon she was suddenly able to eat, was starting physical therapy, and was coherent when talking to my uncle. The suddenness of her recovery, and its swiftness, made me think of the "death energy" I've heard about in the past, wherein someone with a terminal disease/sudden illness suddenly resurges and appears to begin recovery, only to relapse and die later in the day. This was probably the biggest "prepper" for me that she might pass in the very near future, although the realization was not on a conscious level.
We had planned to go up Friday morning to visit her, and my Mom is kicking herself for not going up earlier today or on Wednesday. I think she blames herself for Popo's death, because she didn't know that Popo was alone in the house last weekend. Mom thinks now that if she'd known, she would have gone up and spent more time with her, but realistically, she wouldn't. No point beating herself up over it. When God says it's time to go, we go, and there's nothing we can do to change it.