My mom and I had talked last weekend and she mentioned how sick my grandma had been and how she seemed to be improving. I immediately thought about how much I wish I could go there to see her and was thinking about creative financing that would get me there.

From January to April, she'd lost 30 lbs, but no one had really noticed. Her doctor felt she needed to go into a hospital for a bit. She had been improving some, but then got really ill with a cold that turned into bronchitis.

She was having trouble eating, but in a week, she went from weighing 92 lbs to 77 lbs! When my parents had been there, my dad got her to drink some ensure and he could here it gurgling into her empty stomach. She seemed to be eating better and recovering from bronchitis pretty well for a 97 year old woman. My Aunt Della, however, forbid anyone from discussing "going back home" with her. She had clearly lost her ability to continue to take care of herself.

This is the grandma that when my folks weren't speaking to me and were treating me like I was some piece of garbage, sent money, cards, pictures, etc. This is the grandma who showed me her poetry when I was writing my own around the age of 10 and encouraged me in mine. This is the grandma who when I said I'd rather be confirmed Episcopalian instead of Congregationalist, started talking about how our family name was on some very old Episcopalian church in Connecticut and that it ran in our family and that I had nothing to feel embarrassed about. My parents were deacons in the Congregationalist church(which my grandma attended), but when I looked at who attended each church, I really felt much more like I'd rather emulate the relationship with God that people at the Episcopal Church had than the folks at Congregationalist church. My mom was at first stunned, but when i started to tell her all the lousy unkind things I'd seen most of the Congregationalists do versus the Episcopalians in town, my mom came down squarely on my side, too. Of course, then I had to attend both church services on the weekend -- Saturday night at the Episcopal mass and Sunday morning at the Congregtionalist service.

This is also the grandma to whom my dad didn't speak for over 20 years. I finally convinced him that his parents were getting old and didn't have much time on this earth and that they missed him. He said in that past year that not a day had gone by where he didn't think about them. He asked me to get their permission to call. My grandmother was positively giddy when I talked to her at the prospect of speaking to her eldest son after all that time and begrudging. Germans are a stubborn bunch!

Recently, I've been missing her very much -- kind of a dull aching for family, where I belong, I think. To some degree, it's because we're struggling so hard financially and I feel so alone and desperate, and to some degree because I know it's hard for the kids to not have lots of family close on either side of the family.

Last night, sadly, she passed away in her sleep. She was a dear person and loved me in spite of my crazy 20s. I know when my grandfather died she kept commenting on how she hoped she'd go very soon because she missed him so much. I guess she finally is getting to be with him. I'm sure you're happier, Grams. I know how much you missed him. I remember your eyes filling up while at the Lakehouse. It made me cry, too.

She was so thrilled that I had dressed his grave with perennial flowers when I went back east after his death-- Sweet William, of course. I hope I can get back there some day and dress her grave with Sweet Alyssum for Alice.

Some of the reasons behind my visit then had been to have my kids meet her. My grandfather's death had driven home how little my children know of my family and I wanted them to meet my brother, see my folks' farm and meet my grandmother and see the family farm. I wanted them to have a sense of family that didn't result in Russell being treated as a second class citizen by my in-laws. I wanted the kids to meet their family and have a sense that there is in the world, a family that welcomes both my children equally. (I think my in-laws have lightened up on Russell since that time, but at the time, it's how I felt.)

When I can stop crying my eyes out, I'll get to a poem for her. Right now, I simply ask God to bless her and my grandfather and am thankful for them being reunited in death.

Amen.