It’s been a rough go lately. On Easter Sunday I got a call from my uncle that my grandma suffered a massive stroke. There was no change in the first 24 hours, so my dad and I took the first flight out to see Grandma up north. After sitting by her hospital bedside off and on for three days, Grandma passed away. As hard as it was, I’m so thankful I had those finally few days with her. I’ve never been with someone while they died, let alone held their hand as they slipped away. Up to that point, it was evident that she was aware that we were in the room with her, but she still had no way to communicate with us. Regardless, I told her over and over how much I loved her and that I knew how much she loved me. Also, I thanked her for always being my cheerleader, and being the only one who believed in me when I decided to go back to school to finish my second degree.
Grandma was a tough lady, and the head of a very dysfunctional family. She pushed her family hard, and didn’t sugar coat things for anyone. She reminds me a bit of an older Martha Stewart to be honest. A lot of people in my paternal family don’t get along, and pretty much every sibling (Aunts/Uncles) believes that the other one is wrong on any given topic. A lot of them say Grandma was to blame for that, but I’d say they all played an equal role in their chosen relationships with one another. Now that Grandma is gone, I think it will be fairly obvious either way. As for me, I’ve always chosen to get along with everyone in the family, because frankly, I have no reason not to. And beneath the rough exterior, Grandma was good to me, sometimes more so than to others. But I digress.
While all this was going on, the backdrop for family drama was already on full display. The past few months I’ve had my hands full with ridiculous amounts of unprovoked cattiness and cruelty, and while I was away saying my goodbyes to Grandma, it reached a point of no return. Apparently, there are just certain people in the world who will never be happy with what they have, and will always want more. They feel entitled to things they haven’t earned or that belong to others, and they view people as possessions. I don’t understand these people, and it pangs me to be repetitively exposed to these irrational, undeserved behaviors. Grandma wasn’t blind to them, and she’d be kicking in her grave to know it was going on. I asked myself what she would tell me to do, and it was the same thing that someone else said, “stop covering for them, just so they can save face in front of family and friends” and “just accept that they are shallow and don’t care about anything that doesn’t benefit them”.
I wish I was as brave and strong as my Grandma was, and that I wasn’t so affected by other people’s ugliness towards others. Even though I feel all alone in this now, I know Grandma is still cheering me on. As I continue to mourn her passing, I know that Grandma’s guidance will find it’s way into my thoughts, no doubt echoing her words of the kind of life she felt I deserved. Thanks Grandma . . . thank you for always sticking up for me and loving me just the way I am.
). While a love for books and reading is good for many obvious reasons, it is especially good for someone in my position. That is, someone whose health conditions greatly limit their daily activity. Man can explore the world for free as long as he stays between the covers. 
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