Around here: Goodbye, Babcia.

The first time I met my grandma, in 1985, and, as it turned out, the last, in December of last year.

On Saturday morning, we got the call we'd been expecting yet dreading for years and learned that my grandma's time on earth had ended. She turned 91 years old in February and had told us repeatedly, especially during her final year, that she was tired of living. Of course we hoped she had more time, but we didn't expect it. The funeral is on Friday and we're all going to gather in Gdynia, like we have so many times before.

I find that it's still hard for me to fully comprehend that my aunt who passed away seven years ago is gone, and I imagine that it will be the same with grandma. Of course I know they are gone, but since I've only seen them a couple of times every year for most of my life, part of me has this feeling that they are still waiting on the other side of the ocean and that I just haven't visited or won't visit for a while. To be honest I like this feeling, that there is a parallel world out there where they are still alive and well and just waiting for the next summer vacation when we will come stay with them, like we always did, and thought we always would.