My grandmother died last night.
It’s strange, we weren’t close, but I do have happy memories of her from when I was a kid. She used to let me help out with baking and I’d learn things from her. My preferred method of separating eggs is learned from her. (Crack the egg into one hand, then pass the yolk back and forth until the white has fallen into the bowl. It’s very hard to break the yolk this way, and you get all the white out.)
I’m sad. I am sad for my father. I am thinking a bit about death and about being quiet.
We knew that she was dying, she’d been sick for some time. I had the chance to see her, but I was scared. I didn’t want to see her dying. The last time I saw her, just before Christmas, she was lucid and in a good enough mood and she said nice things about the quilt I made for my mother last year. I wanted that to stay my last memory of her.
It makes me think of this quote…..
You don’t have all the time in the world. I say to myself ‘you know how long it takes you to get something done so, you know you’ve got to run through at least ten versions of this thing. You have to write down what you’re going to abandon. You’ve got to see how it works in the whole thing and then throw it away. And then throw it away.
– Leonard Cohen