Well, a little under a month before that post - or this blog - existed, my grandmother went to the hospital due to some major issues with her bowel system. The endeavour ended in her colon being removed, and she was in the hospital, followed by a rehabilitation facility, for about two weeks after.
Begin downward spiral.
After her leave, she only got worse, she was malnourished, and complained of an awful taste in her mouth, and lack of appetite. It wasn't long before she was back in the hospital from a lowering blood pressure. Doctors soon figured out that it was something with her inhaler, the fact that she was on oxygen, and a couple of other factors, that were bringing that bad taste and lack of appetite. Another week in the hospital, and back to that rehab center, and she's home again. Does better at home this time.
She goes again. Vomiting, this time, had a major blockage in her digestive system. Had more surgery, and just like the colon removal, came out like a "rockstar", as her surgeon, Dr. Slam (Greatest. Name. EVER.) called her.
Funny thing, rockstars. They come in all different shapes and sizes - trust me, just look at MySpace. No one would ever expect a rockstar to be an eighty-one year old grandmother in the hospital. But you see a lot of rockers going out in the same way; Drugs, violence, self-destruction. Kurt Cobain shot himself, Jimi Hendrix finally lost after years and years of drug abuse, Elvis was the same. But, my grandmother wasn't a Jimi Hendrix or a Kurt Cobain. She was a George Harrison. As I'm sure you know; George passed away quietly after a long battle with lung cancer in 2001.
If I haven't made it clear to you already; On October 17th, 2009, 8:20 P.M., my grandmother passed away quietly in a hospital room, with my father, my uncle, and my grandfather at her side the entire time. Her family meant the entire world to her, and she was with them to the end. Quite literally.
October 17th, 2009, 8:20 P.M., I was putting my uniform on in the High School band room. It was the Golden Sound Showcase, the Ohio Musical Education Association competition that we hold each year. I had spent the last few hours getting the field ready for the twelve bands that would attend, and I was about ready to take to that field myself. Little did I know that my grandmother had just passed away in Mount Carmel East Hospital just a moment ago.
When I finally received word of her death, my world fell away, all of that happiness, all of that pride, all of that everything I had receieved from the day just disappeared. I cried. I had never cried harder.
After a bit of time to gather myself together, my mother's parents left, and I soon went to sleep, wanting this day to end.
3:15 A.M., October 18th, 2009. I woke up. Couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts were racing through my head. I went over to the desktop, and shifted through my library. One song popped out to me; Welcome To The Black Parade, by MCR. If you don't know the song, you should go hunt it down on YouTube or Yahoo! Music. I quietly sang the lyrics, thinking about my grandmother the whole time, and I cried again. When that epic bridge came on, with all of the sayings of self-pride and what-not, I couldn't even sing anymore. All I could do was cry. But, you know what? I felt better. I felt like she was closer to me now, even if I don't believe in the afterlife. I still felt like she was watching me.
Her life will be honored today with a visitation, and it will be the last time I see her. But, you know what? I'm not scared to see her. I want to be there for my father, and for my grandfather, and for her.
Doris Hellstrom; May 28th, 1928 - October 17th, 2009. A true rockstar. Rest in peace, Grandma, I'll never stop missing you.
"We'll carry on, we'll carry on. And though you're dead and gone, believe me, your memory will carry on."
