MIXED FEELINGS

Michael's grandmother died yesterday. I have such mixed feelings about this.

When Michael and I were married, his grandmother and I were very close. She told me that she thought of me as a granddaughter, and I definitely thought of her as a grandmother, and told her as much.

After Michael and I divorced, I called her one day, asking for advice. I felt like...well, after my father died I felt like I didn't have anyone left in my life who had any life experience. Someone who could tell me things like how you cope with living for fifty years with your friends dying. It seemed like someone older would know that kind of thing, and be able to help me figure it out. So this one day when I was trying to figure out whether or not to move across the country, I called her to ask for her advice.

I spoke to her on the telephone, and said, "Well, I just wanted to ask your advice."

She said, "Why, of course, love, you can always call me and ask for advice. Just not money."

I had never asked anyone in Michael's family for financial help, never mentioned money in any context. I was so shocked and offended by this, that I never spoke to her again. That was about four years ago.

And now she's died.

I remember when her husband lay dying, that Michael and I were the only two who cared about more than the money he would leave people. She commented on this at the time, and said that she appreciated it. And now I wonder about her. I wonder who was there as she lay dying. I wonder where she's gone. I wonder if she had regrets for the life she lived, or if she was happy to finally rest. I wonder if she believed the people around her cared, or if she saw in them only vultures, waiting for a final paycheck.

Michael loved her. Michael is by far the purest soul I have ever met. I wonder if she knew that there was one person in her life who loved her out of that pure a heart.

The last time I visited Michael, I said something to him about Matthew, about how he's been pretty cruel to me generally, and how I still believe that people can change. He turned to me and said, "I did." I had forgotten. He was different when we met, but that was so long ago. I don't remember if he was vastly different or what--it was that long ago. But even since we split up, he's changed again.

I laughed and said, "So basically, it's all your fault, because you've set me up with *expectations.*"

I knew I could find a way to blame this all on someone else.