I just got home from spending yesterday afternoon and this morning with Grandma. Even though I just saw her Sunday, the difference in strength was very apparent. She still "looked" good. Her spirits were ok. She was tired from not having slept the night before, so I was hoping the weakness was due to tiredness. Not to be so. She was prescribed Morphine to help her sleep at night and for pain. Thankfully maybe she will be more "comfortable", but that also means the pain is there and hurting more than she lets on. This morning she was to weak to get out of the chair or couch without help. She had to put her arm around my neck and slowly I would stand up. She also didn't think she could walk to the bathroom. She used her wheelchair. At one point this morning she looked at me while holding her stomach and said she couldn't stand it anymore. In my head I'm screaming NO. My heart is screaming NO. What I say is I wish I could do more for her. She just shook her head.

The amount of sadness I'm feeling can not be explained. Grandma has always been my 2nd mom. There have been many times, up until 2 weeks ago, I would call her for advise. Call her and just tell her I needed to hear her voice. What I admire the most is that she never gave her advise to make me feel better. She always told the truth about what she thought I should do or say whether it was what I wanted to hear or not. She has definitely made me a stronger person. Always telling me to say what I feel instead of holding it in. Always giving me a comforting hug. I'll be up with her next week and any other time that is needed. I know that she is being taking care of, but I just need to see her as much as possible and maybe give her a little back.

Grandpa

Today, at 9:20 am I received the call from my uncle that Grandpa was going to be raised soon. I met my uncle, along with cousin's "friend" at the cemetery. It was a very strange feeling. 17 years ago, I cried my heart out at that same spot for him. I could not believe that my Grandfather was gone. Today, I was watching him being brought home to my Grandmother. To be with her. To comfort her. To give her peace. To the place he loved to be. I was scared watching his vault being lifted. Scared it would be dropped. Scared to be raising the dead. The scariest, looking into his empty grave and seeing the coffins of my great-grandparents. It was not an easy job lifting that vault out of its grave. There were many starts and stops. Grunts of the machine. Pulling on the bars, and wires by the workers. I know see it, and feel comforted, after looking in the grave, as his parents giving him a final hug. They are still with him. Hardest of all, they I saw it as them comforting Grandpa for Grandma.

Life definitely gives you a different perspective when you are faced with a very loved one facing death. I cant imagine a life without my Grandmother. She has always been my rock. The only person I could talk to and know I wasn't being judged. Her arms and heart are always open. Husband told me tonight that he doesn't think that I'm dealing to well with Grandma's situation. I'm probably not. I don't want her to go. I need her too much, still at my age. She's guided me through my babies and still to this day gives me advise.

I still often think of my Grandfather. 17 years later I still wonder if he is proud of his family. I think he is. I sometimes see my boys doing things and am so reminded of Grandpa. I personally think that he would absolutely be loving all of his grandchildren and great grandchildren.

I have so many memories of my Grandpa. I remember when my uncle and his friends would "abuse" me and I would threaten to tell Grandpa. They would push the issue and finally I would. Lets just say now I feel bad for making a big deal out of nothing. I remember my Grandfather telling me he'd give me $10 to wash his car. The only problem, he would sit outside and watch. He'd also tell me every spot missed or forgot to vacuum. Sometimes I washed his car 5 times for the $10. When I really got on his nerves, he'd tell me he had a project for me to put together in the basement. It took me to be about 15 before I realized that he took some of the pieces out of the bird houses that I was suppose to be building. Most of all, I remember just wanting to be with Grandma and Grandpa. Their house was always open. Their arms were always open. I still miss my Grandpa to this day.

Friends

The family and I went to a very close friend's house tonight. We had so much fun. Husband and I truly enjoy spending time with this couple. They just happen to have young children, 7 and 4 who just adore our boys. I don't think a minute went by with the little kids hanging on by boys. The added bonus is that even though the "Dad" is my husband's friend, he spends a lot of time talking to my boys about their football, racing, school, etc. He is like a big brother, uncle, friend wrapped into one. And his wife is my boys dream. When Big Son was little, he told me he didn't know how to talk to the wife because she was so pretty. Now, being 15, he can't do enough to please her.

This couples' children are so sweet. They love being with my children and my boys indulge (and so do husband and I) there every wish. It is funny to hear the "little" kids talk to my boys. My boys laugh and indulge them. It makes me realize that Husband and I have done a "good job" raising our boys. They both had plans to sleep at friends houses tonight but when we told them that Husband and I would be at this couple's home, both boys canceled their plans to come with us. That to me is being a family.