I lost my grandmother, and I know its not the same. But what kills me is to see how my mom reacted. On mothers day my mom sat in her room crying all day, she was in pain of not having a mother for mothersday. And I didn't even know my grandma, but I know we called her Gigi. We called her gigi because when she was a preschool teacher, a kid could not pronounce her name and so he called her Gigi. I loved her, but it was a distant love. Since I never knew her, but my aunt told me that she knew everything about me and my brother.For instance, she knew I had a dance rectal the day she died, she knew everything. She cared. She died the day of my dance recital, and so after the recital we drove to Arkansas for the funeral. I remember going to her house, and my dance pictures where sitting on the coffee table, as if she had been looking at them before she died. We think she died of a blood clot or something or other. It kills me to see my uncle Danny, Aunt Kathy, Aunt Linda, and so many others including my mom in pain. My mom has dreams about her every night, and one time it was that her mom was talking to her, and she said, "I went to here." and she drew a picture and showed it to my mom, and it was of Hell. It kills me, my mom will wake up sweating, from a dream about her mom.
Broken~Wings