This morning, my phone went off at 4 am. I already knew what it was going to be about, having left my unconscious grandmother the previous evening in North General Hospital, where she had lain in ICU for two days following a heart attack.
It was Rafael, my cousin. "Well, you know why I'm calling," he said.
"Yeah," I said. Calm. Expected it. We spoke for another few moments, made plans for later that day, and rang off.
I told my wife that Grandma had passed away. And wept. Then I called our family in Puerto Rico to tell them the news, wrote up a couple of lesson plans for use in my classes that day, emailed them out to the school, slept for an hour, woke up to call the school to tell them I would be out, went back to sleep, overslept, ran out the door, took a cab to Manhattan, met my cousins and Gladys, went to the hospital, kissed Grandma's forehead in the morgue, walked down to 105th Street and St. Cecilia's rectory to arrange for the funeral mass, walked down to 91st Street, left messages for my Mom's nurse and psychiatrist, spoke with Mike in Puerto Rico, and puzzled with Ralph as to whether his father had already hopped on a flight to New York. A busy day. I will post more later, after I have gotten my thoughts in better order.
I am very tired.
Good night, Grandma, Abuelita. I love you. Bendicion.
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