My Grandmother Died

So, one of the reasons for not starting this blog sooner is because my family didn't want my grandmother to be hurt with possible reprocussions. You see, my extended family (the MEF) are vindictive and would do anything to hurt us and the best way they could do that was to hurt my grandmother.

My grandmother died on 30/10/14 at the age of 92. She had vascular dementia and her memory, particularly her short term memory was very deteriorated. She also had breast cancer and heart issues. But to put it into perspective, she recently had a bout of pneumonia, went to hospital and walked out about three days later. She was 91 at the time. You don't hear many stories of 91 year olds getting pneumonia and surviving.

So that sets the scene a little bit. I received the call from my mother at about 10am, my wife and I left work immediately and drove the 55 miles home. When we arrived the MEF were there in force, the police had already been as it was a sudden death and a doctor had been to sign the death certificate. I immediately went to my mother to comfort her and comfort myself. Luckily the MEF decided to excuse themselves from the situation. Well, as far as the next room anyway.

My mother explained to me that she died in her sleep, was found in bed and looked very peaceful. She asked if I wanted to go and see her to say goodbye before the undertakers came. I was apprehensive. The only dead body I'd seen previously was my wife's grandfather and it was sprung on me; no time to think, no time to worry; as we arrived at the funeral home he was at (note to the reader, open casket is the norm in Spain). However, I knew that if I didn't see her, I could have had the regret, in the future, of not seeing her. It wouldn't be "pleasant" to see her, but at least then there wouldn't be be the chance of regrets, right? My wife wanted to say goodbye to her and so that got rid of any of the last doubts I had, I couldn't let her do that on her own.

My mother, my wife and myself went to my grandmother's bedroom. She was "asleep" in her bed, as I'd seen her many times before, tucked up under god knows how many blankets with her eyes half-open. Only this time she wasn't breathing, nor would she ever breathe again. This is the first person from my family that I was close with that has died. A friend from work died earlier this year and that was tough; this was so much harder. As the three of us sat with her we started reminiscing about the good times, particularly her 90th birthday which was just before she started to really go down hill.

One of the MEF, MS, (I'm using abbreviations because they wouldn't be above accusing me of defamation if they found this blog, but everyone who needs to know, knows who this is) decided it would be a good time to come in and started accusing us of causing her death. My mother cut him off short with a firm "we're grieving for my mother, please leave" but he decided that he knew better and was going to continue.

My rage was already beyond boiling at this point and I leapt up and screamed at him to "FUCK OFF". This, I would later find out, counted as me hitting him. He tried to find some more words but just as I had leapt up, so had my mother and she was pushing the probably 25 stone tub of lard out of the door. He resisted and so I gave him the second "FUCK OFF" barrel and assisted my mother in removing him.

This is how the MEF destroyed the last memory of my grandmother in our home. Not only mine, but my wife's and my mother's. We can never get that back. If anyone can tell me what he hoped to achieve by doing this, beyond trying to hurt us, please do let me know.