A Great Granddaughter's Thought's

A few words,
Bye meredith sullivan friday 4/10/2008

NOTE:

forgive me, I am not a good speller.

I feel I must make some noise on this blog. Everybody else is, so, why not me.
Shakespeare once said "All the world's a stage. We are all actors." The last couple of weeks since the funeral has felt like a play, especially when we were at the ranch. I feel as though we have just thrust ourselves back into our lives, forgetting about what has happen. We have no time to think about her, becuase we are too busy with different stuff. School, work, family, church, and trying to have a life is difficult. Soon, she is not the center of our thoughts anymore. Every once in a while we come back to her, rembering she is gone and trying to change our minds to something else. It is becuase we do not want to think of one of the saddest times in our lifetime. I have been gulity of this, but also gulity into knowing that I did not have a proper goodbye with her, in my feeling of course.
My mother told us one Sunday morning, two weeks before her death, that we were going to see Momme. She also told us, things looked grim and we should try to say goodbye to her, just in case.

When we got there, Momme was in her kitchen, dressed, and watching tv. But something was different, something was. (One of the help people was there)
She was sitting in a wheelchair, bent over and holding a sippy cup, one Bella might have left. We only stayed 20 minutes or so. I remember the mood was uncomfortable. We talked with her, and we all sat close to her, that way we can hear her when she talked, because her speech was so hard to hear, She probably did not remember an hour later or so that Cam and I were going to get our braces offor that Avery was going to be 14 in a few weeks. Or that he was going to high school come September. She might not even remember that a grandchild and three great-grandkids were there. We were all sad. I think that was we knew we were not going to see her sitting up again. The next time she would be laying down, in final sleep.

For my grandmother and grandfather's anniversy, I was transfering some old videos to DVD. One was her 90th birthday video that was shown at the party. One brief clip showed her around 1990, taking about her husband.
I must confess I can not recall her moving and speaking perfectly like she was in that video. All my memories were of her in the last year, trapped in a frail body are sad.At Hugie's 89th birthday, I saw her and later told Grandma that her body look lifeless. Her eyes had little life. She was just...there. Sitting on the couch in the dining room, just sitting there. I was quite sad that day.
A memory of her before her stroke was her car. A blue car, old but still working car.
I am standing behind my glass front door. My age I can count with my fingers, I am happy. Becuase I know she has come to give us cocoa puffs or cupcakes or something like that. I smile at that memory, becuase it comes from a happy time, when I didn't know what death was or how it looked liked. Before I got so scared that I would have a heart attack, like the one guy in some irish comedy movie my parents forced me to watch when I was ten(it was that or go to bed, nothing else). That was a happy time for me....................

I think I thought the way I would say goodbye was to be by her bedside, kiss her cheek or forehead, say goodbye to her. Or to see her in th coffin, opened, to show she's in a better place. But when we were at the funeral, and we were all touching the coffin, I wanted to hold on, wanting to be near the person who hugged me, let me play with toys, and gave me cupcakes. But I let go, because I was doing all I could to not break down. I left and ran over to Rebe, where I felt most confortable at the time. When I saw people picking up rocks , I picked one up. And almost in a child-like state, I picked another up, and gave it to Chris, who at the time was doing something I had never seen him do before, crying. I wanted to hug him, but I resisted, just stood there, holding my rock while my eyes ran dry, unable to cry, knowing, I had just said "Goodbye" to my Momme, for the last time



If I have bored you, I'm sorry. If you thought this didn't make any sence and I went on too long, forgive me. But if you read this trip down memory lane, thank you.
I thank you for reading this long,
If any relatives want to write me, please email me at
Batcat@tx.rr.com.
thank you
Meredith Sullivan, age 15 1/2.