The Loss of a Grandmother

I received a phone call from my ex-husband, the girl's dad, tonight. His step-mom is dying. Ella, who has been the only real grandmother the girls have ever known, has only days left. Her liver has given out.

Although she has been in the hospital for weeks they are releasing her to die. She will be going home tomorrow afternoon. With Bonnet in town and the holidays near, the girls and I are hoping to be able to drive down and see Ella one last time.

She was a caring and supportive mother-in-law. My first true experience of what having a mother was like. She is the girl's grandmother. Someone that loves them unconditionally. A person can never have to many people that love them that way, and you never get over the loss of the ones that did.

My grandmother died when I was six. She was far from perfect, but I felt such love and acceptance from her it warms me still . . . 37 years later.

They will not be holding a funeral for Ella. She wishes to be cremated and buried in a small cemetery without any fanfare.

Ella has been ill for years and is in her 80s. She's lived a varied and filled life. Granted the right, I would ask only that she suffer no more than necessary in her passing.

It's her grandchildren and their loss that I morn tonight.