I had a fun and light little post planned for today, but truth is that it's a very sad day for me as I received a bad news from my family in Italy: my grandma (my dad's mom) died.
You have to know that I'm the oldest of my siblings and I've been away from my birth family for over 5 years now and of course when I was told that my grandma was really sick with Alzheimer, the scenario of receiving this news crossed my mind several times and I told myself that I was old and strong enough to receive the news with grace and without too much emotions at least the time necessary to end the phone call with dignity.
And I did.
For about 2 nano seconds.
Then tears, gulps and sigh took over and I had to tell my mom a very quick: "Can I call you later?".
Of course, having hubby standing right behind me asking what the hell happened over and over, helped me to pull my self together.
For about 2 more nano seconds.
Just enough to give him the news than dive to cry on his shoulder.
I'm crying so much my head hurts.
For my grandma, for my dad, for my aunts and uncles (my grandma had 8 awesome children, 4 males and 4 females).
Because I'm 10K miles away and, for reason I don't care to explain publicly, I can't even make a quick run over there to see her one last time and give her a good bye.
So, I'm crying some more.
Then I picked myself up and thought to write about all this, as writing is therapeutic and always makes me feel better. I realized with the most hurt in my heart that I have nothing about the woman, not a picture to show, just old memories of my childhood closed up in my head....
except: MY NAME.
Well, my maiden name anyway, it's the same as her married name as I was born in the core of the South of Italy where the tradition to name the first born after the dad parents is still going strong.
You also have to know that growing up, every time I've heard of my friend's grandparents dieing, I always imagined the day my grandma would and in my preteens years I always thought that I wouldn't be able to attend the funeral as I would be creep out to see my name on the headstone. I remember vocalizing this concern to my parents and never in a million years I would have thought that I wouldn't be attending her funeral after all.
Be careful what you wish for I guess. Meh.
Maybe it's better this way, it's better that I remember her still happy and busy in the kitchen, where she made the most delicious meals for whomever happened to show up at her door. Happy to open her door to children and grandchildren whatever we needed, happy to listen to us, to spoil us and every time we left just say: "The important thing is that you're ok". Never tired, always putting herself after everybody else, she lost that joy when my grandfather passed away more than 10 years ago.
Now, at least, they are reunited for ever, while I cry for a little while longer....