Hi, bluelace12. I know you posted this in February, but I just found it and wanted to comment. My grandmother died on May 4 of this year, the Sunday before Mother's day. She was 82. I'm 22. Your experience sounds just like mine. The majority of my family lives in Illinois, and I live in Arizona with parents. I flew back there with my mom for the funeral and saw about 100 people, most of whom I had never met before, and all of them just went on and on about what a great person she was, and proud she was of my brother and me. And of course, with each hug came more and more tears. But the absolute hardest part was watching my grandfather, her husband of 62 years, walk to her casket and break down into tears.
I am so grateful that I knew her as long as I did. But, like you, I wish I had spent more time with her. I don't think my boyfriend ever even met either of his grandmothers. My paternal grandmother died when I was 2, and it's hard for me to even comprehend that at one point, I had two grandmothers.
I guess all we can do is hope that they're somewhere better.
