Nothing Left But Ashes

My grandmother died last night.

My sweet, wonderful I-hope-I-am-half-the-grandmother-she-is Gramma has passed.

My dad called me late this afternoon to tell me. He was calm. His voice tremored just a bit. He said he called because he had terrible news.

That Gramma had a massive heart attack last night and died. That she wasn't feeling well and told my uncle to call 911 because she was dying. They got her to the hospital. And she died.

Wait a minute, I asked my dad. This was last night?

My uncle, my dad's only brother had just now called my dad. Nearly 24 hours later.

I was absolutely stunned. And then my dad's voice quivered and said that wasn't the worst of it.

My sorry sack of shit uncle? Has already had her cremated.

That's it. It's done. She hasn't even been dead a day, and there's nothing left but ashes.

My dad asked about a service, and his brother told him he could have a service in Georgia, and they would have one in Utah.

My head almost popped off. I know his brother is a crackpot, but this goes beyond any normal, humane behaviour. I am so sick for my father. No goodbye. No closure. No anything.

As my mom has talked to my dad a bit, there are even more awful details. My uncle called my dad to tell him their mother was dead while standing in line at Taco Bell ordering his lunch.

My dad has been trying to reach my grandmother for several days, so when my uncle called today and started telling my dad about issues she's been having with her potassium levels and her medications my dad thought Oh no. She must be in the hospital again.

My uncle talked to my dad for a full ten minutes (while ordering his food) before telling my dad She's dead. She died at 9 o'clock last night.

My dad is now on the phone with my Gramma's only living sister. It is awful enough that she has passed, but our grief has barely had a chance to surface in light of the anger, bitterness and sheer unfairness of how this has been handled. I am proud of my dad for taking up the role of messenger since his brother is too much of an ass.

My husband, mom and I are in agreement that my uncle moved all of my grandmother's bank assets around this morning before he called my father. We'll find out on Monday when my dad flies out. I don't give a damn about the money, not one dime of it. It is the ethics of the situation. To stand in line at some Taco Bell in DesertTown, Utah and treat your mother's death as a by-the-way twenty-four hours after the fact is cruel.

So please, will some of you please light a candle in remembrance of my grandmother? She deserved so much better than this.