Anna England

On Sunday January 8^th my grandmother passed away. She had been sick around a year, fading but not fading fast. She held on. I hated to see her sick and weak. I hated to see her not like her independent, mouthy, feisty but very loving self. I never went to see her by myself. I always made my sister come with me. She was good at filling the silence when I didn’t know what to say. I sit her now, finding it hard to put my thoughts to words. Probably because I am still numb, there aren’t many thoughts in my head right now. I am blank and numb. I hate this. I hate this feeling, I hate this process. I hate the viewing and funeral. I also hate to see my sisters upset. When they cry, I cry. I want to make their tears go away, I want to never see them cry but this is something I cannot fix. So, I sit there, holding their hands or sometimes them to make the pain more bearable. My oldest of my little sisters is married. So now I hold my youngest and make sure the husband is doing his job with the other one. Meanwhile, Duste’s job is to take care of me. But I do not make this easy because I am too busy taking care of everyone else, plus she is a crier, which makes the rest of us worse. It is a mess. We are a mess. I hate this.