It was perfect. Can I say that? It was. I arrived at her house yesterday. My parents were out of the country and my dad had called me to say that she was non-responsive and so on. I hopped on a plane yesterday morning and got to her side as quickly as I could. Her darling nurse told her that I was there right when I walked in the door and by the time I got to her side, her eyes were open and she knew it was me. She tried for about ten minutes to talk, and couldn't. She maintained eye contact with me and I talked for her. I told her all the things I wanted to say and I told her all the things I knew she was trying to say and then she slept peacefully as we held hands. This morning she was resting but not as peacefully, I sat by her and held her hand and talked to her for a little bit and she soon relaxed. My Uncle Bill and I sat on the couches and read our books for about an hour and when I looked at her again, I could tell that things had changed. The nurse told me that it was probably time and everyone left the room. It was just me and Gran'ma (excuse the grammar). I held her hand and talked to her and told her that I loved her. I told her that I knew she was holding on because she thought I wouldn't be brave and I promised to be brave. Then she closed her eyes and quit breathing with her hand in mine. It was sweet, heart breaking perfection.
The rest of the day was quite a whirlwind. My Uncle Bill made all of the official phone calls and I called family before the chaos of people started. Kay Kay was so helpful with many details and sweet Candy, the nurse, tied up all of the loose ends. The funeral home came and got her and just a few hours later my Uncle and I were at the grave side in the pouring rain with wonderful Richard Parton and his guys who loved my grandparents so much. They dug the grave and we killed the hornets that were swarming and stinging and we buried my Gran'ma in the most informal hour ever. What do you say? We'd said it all--we left nothing unsaid while she was on earth, so there was nothing to say. And there was such a sense of her not being there becasue we all knew exactly where she truly was. My childhood friend, Jason Brawner, happened to be driving through from his aunt's funeral and he was there for several minutes as we filled the dirt back in. It was so relaxing and sweet and "normal." She wouldn't have wanted a fuss and we didn't make one. Uncle Bill left and then I left and walked back up the road to her house, alone and in the rain and I was content. . .walking along the road I love so much back up to a place I loved so much.
It is so strange. She's gone and I'm so happy. There is a little void and I think it will sink in more tomorrow when I go up to her house to switch the laundry and she isn't there, but right now I'm content. The tears have come some, but not the devastating ones I was expecting. It truly was so perfect. I have gotten many sweet messages and posts and texts and I am so thankful, but it seems weird to just be happy.
My Gran'ma was a beautiful and loving lady. She went home beautifully and peacefully and with my blessing. I know she loved me and she knew I loved her. What more is there. Really? I'm so thankful that I had her and I'm so thankful that God answered every prayer of mine in terms of saying goodbye. He really did. I dreamed of a peaceful goodbye with just the two of us holding hands and I got it. I am so blessed and so thankful. I get to miss someone so terribly because I loved so boldly. I'm blessed!
I love you, Gran'ma!
Margaret Darnell Hackney White
1917-2013
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