My grandma died. She was almost 92, and lived a long, happy life. Grandpa died five years ago.
She wanted to be with him. She was ready to go. She'd been sick for a couple of weeks. (Not a long time, I know some people are sick for years, but still.)
I was terrified that her funeral was going to being me back to the place I was when Tami died. I haven't even gotten very far away from that place, but every inch counts and I was scared.
But grandma is at peace. She was so loved and she'd lived a life that made her happy. And maybe she's with grandpa now. And Uncle John. Don't get me wrong - the services were hard. It all sucked. Death sucks. But I had my grandma for thirty-three years, and I'm the youngest grandkid. She was ninety-one (almost ninety-two) and her brain was sharp as a tack. She's had a few injuries over the last few years, and those have been hard, but she wasn't ill and suffering. I'm super lucky and I know it. I have an amazing family, and I know that, too. When I knew she was dying, I remembered the one thing that comforted me when grandpa died was this song: