My grandmother died on Tuesday after a three month battle with just about everything they could throw at an 79 year old woman... chest infection, a minor stroke, stomach cancer, a major stroke, another chest infection which then lead to pneumonia and her death.
I got to see her on Sunday afternoon, for which I am glad. She was very weak, but alert and actively participating in the conversation. I was shocked to hear she had died two days later. I really thought she would kick on, and be around for a lot longer.
Work have been extremely supportive. Days off approved. Flowers, chocolates, indoor plants, cards all bought and given in kindness.
The funeral was today. A full catholic mass. I was asked to read one of her favourite passages.
The wake was at the community centre in her retirement village. Cakes, slices and sandwiches to help the grieving and/or happy memories flow. I smiled and talked to a mix of relatives and old ladies as they expressed their grief and sorrow at losing a loved one.
So why do I feel like an impostor in this process? It's not like I don't care that I've lost my grandmother, but it feels like I've just been going through motions, because that's what a good grandson does.
I haven't cried, I haven't wailed, I haven't punch a wall in anger at the unjustness of it all (as some of my cousins have reportedly done). I have just gone through the motions of telling people and acting appropriate manner of a person in grief.
I'm just too caught up in grieving for myself, to really care about anyone else right now.