Jyuu (jyuufish) wrote,

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~This is for a certain someone on my friend's list. They shall know who they are when they read it~

I cannot even imagine the intense pain I felt when my grandmother died.

Previously, as I told K last night, she was the only person on my side for the longest time.  I can't even begin to go into telling you about the life that I led, it is one of those uber emotional lives that is almost surreal when I look back at it.. almost as if I had not lived it because I know I did.    I think there was alot of uncertainty in our lives back then.    At least for me.  I was born to Sana and Dwain Warren, I was born after a succession of miscarriages that had been eating up at my father and mother's marriage.  Evidentally I was supposed to be the 'child that kept them together', which already set me up for great things (*insert sarcasm here*).  However two weeks after I was born, my mother died.    From an aneruism of the brain.  Needless to say I get a bit paranoid that I will suffer the same fate as my mother.  I think that scares me alot, along with the fear of my own mortality.

I think that we mentioned in a previous post that my father was sleeping with another woman the moment she died.  So that doesn't bear repeating.  Needless to say my grandmother took me in.  It was a promise that she made to my mother, that she would take care of me if anything happened to her..  and prophetically days later, my mother died.

Which started a neverending custody battle over me, along with my father who was so gracious enough to kidnap me away from my grandmother.  Sheesh it lasted a few years, I cannot remember though how long.  It even lasted through the car wreck that my grandmother was in which left her for the most part disabled.    Messing up her hip and her back and rendering her in constant pain until I think the day that she died.

But you know what.. I don't think I can remember her -ever- crying.  I at times thought she was emotionally weak, but in fact she was the strongest woman I think I've ever had the privledge to know and love.  She was stronger then me, I know this now.  (You know how teenagers can be.. I had my instances of rebellion..)  And she sacrificed so much for me that I am still awed because I can't imagine all that she put on the plate.

For example my mother did some things pre-pregnancy that she shouldn't of done.. a few drugs.  I think her excuse might of been because it was the late 70s or something.    But it left me the worse for wear.  Asthma, yes I had that..  I am plauged by allergies.  Not to mention I have dyslexia.    But it was my grandmother that saw to -all- of my development.    She saw that I had all the medicine I needed, she also saw that I had the finest teachers to help me with my dyslexia.    If it had not been for her help, I know I would of been the worse for wear, for the mere fact that when I first started reading, I was reading backwards.    I have no doubt that it was because of her strength and courage and her absolute and utter -faith- in me that I was able to go on to graduate with a a very high GPA, because she helped me -kick- my demons to the curb.

And she was popular with all my friends, in fact I sometimes wonder if my friends came over because of me.. or her.  She was everywhere despite her disability, she went to softball games, she drove to Disneyland and Magic Mountain, she was always so cheerful, everyone loved her.  I loved her.  She was my very first sun.  *starts crying here*  I'll be alright, really I will.  But anyways she was my very first sun and light.. but sometimes I wonder if I appreciated her enough while she was alive.  Perhaps I even agonize over the fact that I never got to say goodbye.

I told her everything.  She was the one that I told I was pagan, she was also the one that I told that I was initially bisexual.  She was understanding, she told me it was my life... she did not try to change me, she loved me for who I was.. everyone needs someone like that, someone who would love you even if you did something so horrible and unthinkable.  She was on my side when I knew my father and step mother wasn't.  And she was the one who gave me courage to get out of my father and step-mother's house.  To spread my wings and fly.

But a few months after I had flown home, she went into a decline and died.    She being in California while I was in Lackland Texas.

I had not known that the last time I had seen her at the Olive Garden in Victorville California, was the -last- time I would see her.  Hug her, kiss her.  That thought does not have enough power to destroy me now.. but it did back when the knowledge had first hit me.

I should of known it though.. for when I was a child, I dreamed of the moment that my grandmother died, even though little did I know that at the time.  It was a dreamscape that shook me so that I could remember it, I must of been five years old when I dreamt it.

My grandmother was in a burning hospital building and I was outside, and I could not run into save her.. all I could do was stare helplessly at the flames.  My inability to do anything reigning supreme

I was never able to -do- anything.  I sort of knew that my grandmother was not long for the world.  In fact I had been hoping to come back home after all my training for a few weeks so that I could spend some time with her, perhaps my last time.  That last time never came.  I got called out of my room at 10:30 on a school night (Curfew was 9:00) by the Night desk.. and was told to wait in the entry way.  One of my training instructers came in and pulled me outside.  He took out a slip, and then he gave me the news which aimed itself like an arrow to my heart.  I don't have to tell you the news.. you already know.

And for a whole summer the light in my world went out completely.  The sun was replaced by shadows everywhere that I could see and I was wrapped up in the worst depression -ever-.. for having lost the woman that I loved with my entire heart.  The depression, oh gods the depression was something that was debilitating at the time.  I think the only thing that didn't have me committing suicide was the fact that she would of wanted me to live.

But I did survive, like she wanted me to.  But I always will have little regrets in my heart that will never truly leave.  Regrets over perhaps not having been the daughter/granddaughter that she wanted me to be... for not hugging her when I knew she needed a hug.  When someone dies, you automatically see -everything- that you didn't do, and it is magnified.. along with the regret.

I don't know why I just typed this up.. though something told me that it needed to happen.

I hope it helps you, if it does.  You are a very important person to K.. just remember that.  You are as important to her as my grandmother was to me.  *hugs and grabs a kleenex*

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