My grandmother passed on Thursday July 6th at 12:58 a.m., just as my plane to Orlando was touching down. I feel terrible that my father had, after nearly a week at her side, stepped away from her bedside and missed the final moments, but, as someone said, she may have been waiting for him to be out of the room. Who knows. The weekend, service and all, was rather upbeat and celebratory, considering, and it wasn't until I got into my car from the trip home, by myself, that it really hit me that she's gone. I will deeply miss E.M.E. (If I ever fly into Orlando again it will be too soon, lemme tell ya...)
Good news: I made it through all the drama and stress of the weekend without a cigarette. I stumbled when I got home and realized that I still had one evil little cancer stick lurking in the dark recesses of my junk drawer, but, besides that one smoke, which I'm not counting (donning baggy pants; cue "It's my prerogative") today is day five. After begging to do so, I'm off to watch my sister's kids for the day. If I can do this I can do it all. Watch out world! (Throwing cap into air on busy Manhattan corner. Wind takes it and some crack head picks it up and shoves it down the front of his pants. Hmmm...)
Please note the quitnet button below my links. I find the chat and resources to be helpful.
1 comment:
Sorry to hear about your grandma.
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