and just like that, she was gone

No matter how old or how expected or any of that, when you lose someone who has been in your life from the moment you were born it hurts.  My grandmother was called home today, it had been a long fight and she held on for as long as she could.  She hadn't woken up in days and she passed in her sleep surrounded but nurses and hospice volunteers.

For whatever reason my grandfather called her Pete, her name was Pauline.  I think it's incredibly sweet and the fact that it stayed with her 35 years after his death is a testament to their love.  She made it a point to tell me at any point that he was the only man she had ever been with, I am happy that they are reunited.

Grandma Pete was a neat freak, we would have to clean for days before she came for a visit.  Even after that it wouldn't be clean enough and she would yell at us.  She was strict but also fun.  A child of the depression who's penny pinch ways led her to announce that the heart meds that she took were over $10 a day every time she took them.  In the early 90s while staying with my family at the campground we spend the summer at she was excited to be wearing her very first pair of dungarees (jeans).  She was 4'11" and every inch of her was firecracker.  She wore a bikini into her 60s, not because she thought she was a hot thing but because it was what she was used to, forget the fact that she couldn't swim and never went in the water.  She would have half of a beer during the annual game of Risk with her kids and their spouses on Christmas and feel "tipsy".

She held on to her faith for dear life, while she lived in Florida she spent every day at the local soup kitchen and the City of Melbourne even had a day dedicated to her.  She never missed mass on Sunday, even if the only service she could get to was entirely in Latin.  Being "that Catholic" comes with its guilt too, she spent the past almost 20 years praying my aunt out of purgatory since dieing of AIDS would not allow you into heaven without being prayed in.  She also spent the last 10 years praying my father in because of his past indiscretions.  Now that burden has been lifted and she can see that they are all able to spend eternity together.

She pronounce potato 'padado' which I loved.  Though she was born in Quebec she no longer spoke French, she had to forgo high school to move to the US and work in the textile factories in my hometown.  She would cry when talking about how blessed we were to have an education, if she was ashamed of anything it was her lack of education.

She was so proud of her grand kids, she was always the loudest one cheering at my brother's basketball games.  When I went home when TC was 4 months old she just cold not get enough of watching me be her mom.  She even watched from right over my shoulder while I nursed, there is not one other person in the world that I would allow to be that close.

I knew she wouldn't be around forever, grandparents never are.  While she hasn't been herself for over a year it's hard to believe that's she's actually gone.  I want to go home but for the services but would have to take both kids by myself and I just can't do that.  It's heartbreaking to miss this.  If for nothing else but to put a smile on my face here are some pictures of "Crazy Pete".