Et perducant te (original) (raw)
footpad blessed; grateful; loved
August 3 2012, 01:13
Listens: Gabriel Fauré, In Paradisum
My granny died in the early evening. My aunt, who was with her, says that her death was utterly peaceful.
I feel... not sad at all. Quite the opposite: I feel a kind of incredulous, tremulous joy at the realisation of how very lucky it was that she and I got to see each other when we did. We got to talk while she could still talk. We got to look into each others' eyes while she was still fully aware. We got to say our farewells, each to the other. We got to say, "I love you," and for that I am intensely, blessedly thankful.
I kinda wish I'd had time to send her a picture of me and Mischa, like she asked me to when we saw each other a week ago. But if that's the sharpest regret I bear, then that's as good as no regrets at all.
I am grateful and glad that she was my granny, and I am privileged to have been her grandson. There will be grief to come, as part of the natural progress of mourning and remembrance, but for now I feel only a calm and wistful happiness.