All things come to an end

Last Monday I got the call I knew I would eventually get, expected to get, but I didn't think it would be so soon. About lunch time my mom called me at work and in the calmest voice she could manage she told me to go talk to my boss and tell him I would have to take off for a while.... my grandmother was dying. We live 2 hours away so my mom and I both left work to pack and get to her. I was home in 15 minutes. My mom walked in not 5 minutes after me. Her eyes were full of tears and she choked on her words as she told me that my memaw was already gone. I never thought I would be so affected by that. We knew she was going to die... she fought Pancreatic cancer for 2 whole years. They told her she had 6 months originally... she never gave up

I've said before that she was a witch... she made Satan look friendly... she was and she did- and she knew it! I loved her though and I wish she hadn't suffered as much as she did, I know she was in a lot of pain... but she never complained too much. I regret that I didn't write down all the things she told me about our family and that I didn't ask more questions about what her life was like when she was younger. I'm sorry I didn't hug her the last time I saw her and that I only said "I love you, I'll see you next weekend." I'm sorry that I didn't do more for her and that I sometimes dreaded going to visit her. We saw her on Mother's Day, My mom and I took her a big basket of crazy daisies and a small plant. She absolutely loved them. My Uncle had come to see her as well. He brought her flowers and had a small gospel group sing for her. She loved music; she was in choir all through high school and college and was an accomplished pianist who could play the pants off any Henry Mancini song. My 3rd Cousins, Barb and Raymond, went to visit her that day too. They brought her a cheeseburger because they didn't know she was only allowed liquids because of the blockage in her intestines. We think that's what actually caused her death. Barb and Raymond can never know that. They would be so filled with guilt and it would surely haunt them for the rest of their lives. They're good people and don't deserve that. My grandma loved to eat... as you can tell from this picture that was taken not too long before she got sick...



She looked nothing like this when she died. She weighed 115 Lbs. She was literally skin and bones and it broke my heart to walk into the viewing a not even recognize my memaw. We had to put a picture of her when she was healthy in the room so that people would know it was her. I hate myself for not hugging her more and for not calling as often as I should have. I hate myself for not realizing how lonely she was when her best friends since middle school died. I wish I would have taken her to target so she could buy all the crap she doesn't need. I hate myself for not being there with her when she was dying and for not being able to hold her hand.
I’m angry because my Cousin Doug, a Pentecostal Minister, Talked a lot about family when he was doing her service but he spoke about the wrong family. My great grandfather had 21 brothers and sister and my great grandmother had 12. There were 2 sides to my great grandfather’s side – the Hortons and the Ellis’. Doug is from the Ellis side while we are from the Horton side. He went on and on about “Grandpa Ellis” who was my great uncle. He said nothing about the Horton side. I just felt that her parents were being left out of her own funeral. It could have been worse, I suppose.
Now all that’s left is closing her estate. I hate the idea of selling all of her things and giving them to strangers. They don’t know that the piano they just bought is the piano my memaw sat at and played “Baby Elephant Walk” for all of us grandchildren while we did out best baby elephant walk/dance. They don’t know those things, and they probably don’t care. It’s just going to get harder.

In Loving Memory
Paula Jeannine Horton Pierre
6/26/1936-5/15/2006