Every time a bell rings...

... an angel gets her wings.


I've been sitting here trying to type this entry for quite some time. I keep getting a few sentences into it and deleting what I've written... re-wording what I've said, deleting again... Imagining a different... hell, I don't know. I guess the best approach is just to spit it all out. So please forgive any spelling and/or grammar errors because I really need to get this venting done or I just might burst.

I've seen people who died before. I've been to funerals. I've seen them in hospitals where they would soon die. But this morning was the first time I've ever witnessed the entire "person drops, ambulance comes, clothes are cut off, tubes/needles/CPR" death before. I was okay during. I'm okay now. I'm not shaking. I'm not crying (yet). But I can't get my brain to wrap around the idea that she's gone. She was born in 1920 so I can't deny that she's had a ripe old life. Up until this morning when she tipped over dead she was a regular ol' firecracker of a woman. The morning has been crappy as it is with my 30-minute commute taking 1.5 hours and it being Monday on top of it all. Not that I should complain because obviously MY morning wasn't as bad as hers.

I guess it all boils down to the fact that I loved her sassy spirit and will miss her very much. I was already emotional to begin with since the anniversary of my Grandma's death was just a day ago and I was already a little down in the dumps.

What a shit-fest of a day. And its only 10:30 a.m.. Where is a silver lining when you need one?


Ms.B