Last week kicked my ass.
It started off with a bunch of work crap going wrong, and whole lot of stress that I did not deal with well. I felt like I couldn't do anything right, a lot of my work had mistakes, and I felt like I was seriously done with feeling like we weren't getting anywhere.
Admittedly, I know I am undergoing hormone treatments and gearing up for my next cycle and insem, but it still felt like too much to handle- more than I was capable of dealing with. So, when Broom asked me about my day on Wednesday, I burst into inconsolable tears, and then again later that same night.
I want to be able to have more than two hobbies (blogging and working out)! Not work 50 hour weeks! Have time to help on strategic projects rather than drowning in a sea of administrative and urgent tasks!
My boss being as awesome as she is, I geared up to talk with her about it on Thursday, and had planned to do so after lunch.
Right before lunch, after running errands in the building where I work, I glanced at my phone. Every email account and digital profile I had contained a message:
"Please call Dad."
Anyone living abroad, or somewhere that you can't get home quickly from knows that this a really bad message. This means bad shit has happened, because good news usually has a larger time window than bad news.
Due to above mentioned awesomeness, I used the office phone and called my Dad at 5 am to find out that my Grandma had passed away that morning.
Her last words were "I'm fine.".
With those words, the amazing life of one of the most consistently-nice people I have had the pleasure of knowing came to an end. 87 years of volunteering, mothering, grandmothering, and being the epitome of a "good person". My family told me that many more people came to the services than they had anticipated, and even the nursing home staff were in tears at the news of her passing (even though I wonder if you ever truly get used to loss).
On Monday, I put a card in the mail for her- a bouquet of flowers on the front, since they are easier to send that way. On Wednesday, it came back because its smaller, unusual shape called for more postage.
Thursday night, I made the tough call not to buy a ticket home for the next day. My family completely understands, but I wish I could be there to grieve with them.
The last time I saw her, Thanksgiving 2012, she asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told her "15 minutes with you, Grandma". As she was consistently very tired as of late, she asked me 5 minutes later if her time was up yet, but in a way that was more funny than rude. Later on, she looked at my rings, and asked me if I was engaged. When I replied that I was already married, she responded "That's right, Broom." and then was able to state our wedding anniversary, including the year (2010).
Was last week a crap week?
But you know what my Grandma taught me?
Niceness pays off. And of course, I'll be fine.