Mourning an Unexpected Loss

Hey,

Well...all losses are unexpected, and all losses are hard. I've lost a lot of people in my life, whether it have been my first love, my childhood friend, my biological mom, a good friend from college that I'd fallen out of touch with, a surrogate grandmother, and those are just the folks that died. Sometimes we lose people without them actually dying, just by simply losing touch. In the world of cell phones and email, it's hard to lose track of people as we move and migrate through our lives. 

Today, though, I found out that my best friend Kevin, the same one who is dealing with his own mortality via a battle with pancreatic cancer, has lost his grandmother. The ordinary relationship that a typical boy has with his grandmother is (based on my experience) full of something I call "living disdain". In that you love the person, but aren't exactly thrilled to be spending time with them, mainly because they are either unhip, boring or just not a person you'd choose to be around of your own free will. 

Kevin and his grandmother, Grandma Eve (Evelyn), were always joined at the hip. Even as a little boy, he'd always talk about how cool she was, and how he always felt like he really was her son instead of his mom's. He looked forward to spending time with her every summer in California, and when he couldn't make it to her, she came to him. She even adopted me by being my grandmother, bringing me sushi lunches in high school, buying me purses and shoes, and kissing me just as much as she kissed Kevin, if not more so. When I was with the two of them, I never felt like I was the odd man out. She had the biggest laugh, always giggling with me and Kevin about something, and taking us both out to late-night movies and ice cream sundaes, even when we got older and no longer thought of those outings as the highlight of our week. 

As Kevin grew up, she was there for him, from his highest moments to his less flattering and lowest moments, and she never once judged him or said a harsh word against him. When we were sitting in the hospital waiting to hear what the situation was when Kevin got shot in the stomach for messing with some gang dude's girlfriend, she just said, "It's Kevin. He does sh** like that." (He turned out to be very lucky and the bullet hit no vital organs, just cost him a three-day hospital stay and a week and a half of bed rest after that. Later that day, when I saw him first in his room, he told me he was scared of seeing his grandmother's 'mean face'. When he needed money to go to college, she sold her house and moved into a nice condo, putting the difference into an account in Kevin's name, which he used to pay for his education. When Kevin got sick, she was there for him even more than his own mother was, stepping into the role of guardian on more than one occasion, and talking with the doctors about his treatment. She offered her home to him, and he accepted, knowing that he'd be taken care of, and not babied, and that his grandmother would have his back, 100 percent of the time. She'd often refer to him as her baby, and me as her adopted granddaughter. Later, she'd call me her granddaughter, and drop the word "adopted". 

Today, I found out that she has passed away. She wanted to not outlive her eldest grandson, and in a twisted way, she got her wish. We don't know exactly what happened, but it appears that she succumbed to a household accident. I don't want to go into specifics, but it was not something that could be attributed to suicide. Kevin's father, Eve's ex-son-in-law, found her while Kevin was at our friend's house 2 hours away. He was the one to tell him of her death, and I am thankful that he was there to be a boulder of support for him. It is a sad day indeed.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

PS: My ex-boyfriend, Mr. Wonderful, found out about the blog and has told me of his intent to read it from beginning to end. I'm not quite sure how to feel about it, since the beginning of it, and a good portion since, has a lot to do with him and is about him.