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A Peaceful rest
Singing Agathe
Earlier this week, my grandmother made the decision to stop treatment of her various ailments and go to hospice. My mother and father flew down to Arizona immediately, as did my mother's siblings. Today, my mother called me to tell me that Grandma had slipped away peacefully. In her lucid moments, my mother told me, she said she was ready to 'get this over with' and was so tired of being sick. I am happy for her that it was a quiet, peaceful passing.

So much of all this comes through my mother, because my grandmother and I have not had a very close relationship over the last decade or so. It's never been harsh or openly hostile, but there has always been a distance between us. Some of that is because of the direction my life has grown and who I have become. Some of that, I am led to believe, is a certain sadness that my grandmother has always kept herself in - a sadness that just now makes a great deal of sense to me.

I mourn her death, despite this tentative distance we shared. She was at heart a good person, and I cannot fault her for wanting what she thought was best for others. I take great solace in her readiness for it, and that all of her surviving children could be with her in her final days.

This comes less than a year after my father's father died. I was fortunate to spend most of my life with four living grandparents. The cost comes now, when time comes crashing down on us all at once, when I am raw and still immature when it comes to grief and mourning. I feel some isolation from this event, but it will hit home harder as my mother returns and we prepare for the funeral.

You have gone to your rest, Grandma. I pray it is the peace you always wanted.

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