I Know You Are Resting Well Grandma Ora

Ora Jeanette Thomas 
November 21st, 1947 to June 22nd, 2017
(Slideshow I made for my Grandma's funeral on July 3rd)

I'm sorry that I'm using Ora and not Jeanette, Grandma. I know you weren't very fond of that name but I am.

I haven't updated the site because I was coping, I still am, but I have come to understand that I will never be able to write, verbalize, or communicate what my Grandma meant to me. I arrived in Seattle on June 20th near midnight. I then walked into my Grandma's bedroom, my Grandpa was there holding my Grandma's hand. My Grandma's breathing was hard, labored, I kissed my Grandpa on the forehead, then I kissed my Grandma on the cheek and told her "I'm here Grandma, and I love you". "First Blood" was on the television. I asked my Grandpa to confirm what I knew, "Is this 'First Blood' Grandpa?" My Grandpa knew it was, not only because he owned the film on VHS but also because he changed the channel. I left the room because I could tell he wanted to be alone.

I last spoke to my Grandma a week earlier. Her voice was even and stern but serious, unlike any of the other conversations we have had over the years. She told me her death was certain. She didn't get sentimental with me, she just told me what the doctors told her. Typically, when my Grandma mentioned death or bad health I would deflect, I would tell her "you're going to live forever" or "you're not going anywhere, Grandma." But my Grandma always knew she would die because doctors had been telling her she would since she breached Great Grandma Lo's womb. That's why I didn't believe it at first because she beat every health scare she ever had. My Grandma was supposed to die long before I was even thought to be conceived. My Auntie, my Uncle, my Mom aren't supposed to be here. My first cousins and my brothers are not supposed to be here based upon the prognosis by some bullshit Texan hick doctors told my Great Grandma. All of my Great Aunts, Great Uncles, all of my Cousins aren't supposed live in or be from Seattle. We're supposed to be building our family deep in the heart of Texas, that Texan hick doctor could have delivered all of us. The city of Elkhart, that's where my Grandma and all of her sisters but one were born. That's where they left when they found out that Seattle had the medical facilities to handle my Grandma's condition.

I visited my Grandma again on June 21st. She was still incapacitated, just very very labored breathing. Of course I kissed her and told her I loved her. My first cousins and myself decided to have a BBQ. So we went to the grocery store and bought so much food, drinks, beer, and liquor. I remember growing up my Grandma would never allow alcohol, drugs (we smoked weed), and even cigarettes in her house. I just kept thinking that while taking shot after shot, drinking beer after beer and smoking blunt after blunt. My Grandma got way more relaxed with that as we all got older but I remember when my mom and auntie could not smoke anywhere near my Grandma's house. Now, we're all high and drunk in her home, Grandma in the backroom hanging on. We weren't being defiant or anything we were just coping. Hanging out with my first cousins and seeing second cousins I hadn't seen in a decade was so heartwarming and filling. We all came together to see my Grandma go to where she always knew she'd go. We celebrated and mourned and reminisced, I felt like an apple falling from a tree, rotting, for the sole purpose of reconnecting to its roots. It was actually one of the best days I've had in a long time. I was with family, with people who will always love me, even when I don't love myself.

On June 22nd, I was awoken by a phone call from my mother. I knew that my Grandma had passed before I even answered, my mom confirmed that Grandma died that morning. My twin brother and I got dressed and headed to my Grandpa's house. We walked in and greeted our mother and our auntie and our Great Aunt (the oldest of my Grandma's nine siblings) my Great Uncle and then we both walked to the hallway. The bathroom was to our left, the TV room, now my aunt's room was right in front of us, when we looked down the hall, passed our Grandpa's room we saw our Grandpa again holding Grandma's hands. I didn't want to walk down the hall. I physically couldn't for a second, my body violently stopped and began to shake, tears welled up in my eyes. My brother walked away for a second to greet other family members showing up to the house, my body relaxed and I continued down the hallway. I hugged my Grandpa and kissed him on his head. I then hugged and kissed my Grandma. I still think that she was breathing, I saw her breathing... but she was cold. I kissed her again and she was still cold. I put my cheek over her mouth and I just felt cold. But I saw her breathing. My brother arrived to the backroom and did exactly what I did.

We sat at my Grandpa's house until two men in suits came to carry my Grandma's body to the crematorium. My Grandma and Grandpa both agreed that they would be cremated when they pass. I have never experienced anything like watching two white men in black suits wheeling my Grandma's body away in a body bag. Everyone in Grandpa's house had tears in their eyes. My Grandpa couldn't watch so he wasn't in the front room with all of us. My older brother who had arrived and laid next to her lifeless body for two hours before, followed her body to the black van that came to haul her away. I sat on the couch and cried and cried and cried.

My Grandma would call me at least once a week when I first moved to Los Angeles. She really helped me get over my homesickness. We talked about so many different subjects, we talked family history, and we talked about her life. My Grandma was no stranger to death and had already coped with her mortality way before she passed away, she always told me that she did not want a funeral and that she didn't want me to mourn because she was going to Heaven. I'm not religious and am not too concerned with where I'll end up when I die but I do know that Heaven exists because that's where my Grandma is. I just refuse to think or believe that she's anywhere she doesn't want to be, she's where she worked for, she achieved her greatest goal. Heaven exists to me because my Grandma is there. I don't think I'll be there with her but I want to be. I still remember when Grandma prayed with me about my belief in God. She didn't judge me, she just prayed. I prayed with her.

I'm not going to go into some religious shit or claim that I have given my life over to God or Christ, I just believe that she is in Heaven. She's happy and where she always wanted to go. I will not be the person who takes that away. I can't be that person.

What all those phone calls were, they were us missing each other. I spent so much time over my Grandparents house when I was younger. When my brothers were with their father's for the Summer or for Christmas or whatever, I'd always be at my Grandparent's house. I remember my Grandma always taking me to church with her at least three times a week. I also remember that my Grandma wasn't just a Christian. I have seen every side of my Grandma and she was just too beautiful of a woman to even try to write anything about. I hope my Grandma appreciates my valliant effort. I remember when she used to get mad at my Grandpa and the shit she would talk, she wouldn't say anything malicious she would just vent. It reminds me of how my lady and I argue. My Grandpa could always make my Grandma laugh during an argument, always!

I remember my Grandma taking my twin brother and me home one day and my Grandma yelling "I hate his ass so much!" Because my Grandpa wouldn't give her any money. I was sitting in the front seat, scared because my Grandma didn't curse. I knew my Grandma wasn't being truthful but it still surprised me.

My Grandma really loved my Grandpa. Grandpa's liver almost failed a few years back and things were looking grim. I was at the hospital with my Grandma and I had never seen her break down like that over the prospect of losing my Grandpa. She just kept asking "What am I going to do?" "What am I going to do?" Thankfully, my Grandpa made it out. (I'll stay away from a tangent about my Grandpa for now. He's my hero. Also, my Grandma didn't just show my Grandpa love when he was almost dying, she did all the time).

I really don't want to define what my Grandma meant to me based upon deeds or what she has given me or done for me but she used to send my son $100 dollars a month because "she wasn't in LA to spoil him." I remember when my Grandma bought me a vacuum cleaner, a knife set, pots and pans, an iron, plates, cups, and bowls as housewarming gifts for my first LA apartment. She did so much more but she really made my transition to LA and my life in LA a bit easier. Her and my mom would always be in LA when my mom was younger. My uncle lived in LA.

On you go, Grandma

Rather, you are gone away

Away to glory

I'm sorry that all I could do is cry over you since you've passed, Grandma. I know you have always told me to employ better strength than tears when you go but I can't help it.  Ever since you've been gone I feel like I've lost something, I feel a bit empty, and lost. I really can't describe it (I can't really describe shit it seems). It's trite but I feel like apart of me is gone. I feel different. The one person who has always showed me love and who was never judgmental, who was always understanding, is gone. I know you're doing well Grandma, but I can't help but miss you, I'm sorry.

There are a few memories that stand out about my Grandma, I remember all the Bible games she bought for regular Nintendo and how she used to move the controller like it would move the player she used. My Grandma was also great at Mario Bros. She had a Nintendo hooked up to the TV in her room. Before my Grandma and Grandpa got separate rooms my twin brother and our cousin would sleep in the spare room. My Grandma would walk in and catch us watching Bevis and Butthead or Ren and Stimpy, she would grab the remote, change the channel and tell us to stop watching nasty cartoons. Of course we changed it back after she left the room, we just turned the volume down.

I remember my Grandma (as everyone remembers their Grandmother) being the greatest cook on earth! My Grandma made the best peanut butter cookies and oatmeal cookies. She made the best Lemon Cake and German Chocolate cake, she made the best stuffing, she made the best meatloaf, the best Spaghetti, she made the best pancakes. We used to eat true big ass country breakfasts at my Grandma's house. My Grandma never made a meal that I didn't love. My Grandpa used to always eat liver and onions so my Grandma would cook liver and onions and leave it on the stove for my Grandpa to eat when he got off of work. She used to get mad that I would pick at it. My Grandma made great liver and onions. 

My Grandma's house would be so clean. One memory that always stands out is her listening to Gospel music as loud as it would go, cleaning her home. I would walk into the kitchen and see her crying over the dishes she was washing, speaking in tongues because the music spoke to her. My brothers and I used to love the smell of Grandma's house. We didn't like to wash clothes that smelled like her home.

That's how I have been coping. I just remember her and the life she led and all of the love we shared. I remember how she believed in me and always trusted me to take a great path in life. 

I'm still mourning and always will. But I won't disappoint you.