In Memoriam
My grand-aunt, Mary Graves, passed away last week. She was 91 or 92 years old. Her death seems to have brought out the worst sort of behavior in the part of my dad’s family that I have never liked. The rift between the good and the evil relatives has widened considerably.
I never really knew or loved Mary. She wasn’t the least bit warm to me (or any of the kids) while I was growing up; she wasn’t well-liked by my father and uncle. I only went to her home one time. I think I was about 10. Even my grandmother says Mary was always a loner who didn’t get along well with others. But my grandmother and my other grand-aunt, whom I do love very, very much, will miss their sister. I am saddened to see that one more person they’ve known their whole lives is dead. For the last several years, their social calendar has been overflowing with funerals and memorial services.
Mary supposedly said she didn’t want any kind of service when she passed away. I say “supposedly” because the evil side of the family has been lying and manipulating the facts throughout Mary’s rather short (as far as we know) bout with bone cancer. Information has been heavily managed. Loved ones were prevented from seeing Mary in her final days, all, ostensibly, for Mary’s own good. We’re not buying it.
But blocking my grandmother and Nana from seeing and then saying goodbye to their sister is about as evil as it gets. These two women whom I love and admire seem a little frailer for it.
So, the best I can say about Mary’s death is that we think she didn’t suffer long. And we hope that those who were with her during her final days were loving and compassionate and provided her with care that eased her pain. We do not know for sure that this was the case.
