She is the last of my four grandparents to depart this world, and she often spoke to my Dad about how she hoped a lot of people will show up for the funeral. When she sold her house and moved into a retirement center a couple of years ago, she really wanted me to go to her house and pick out a few things to take. I'm am not a lover of old lady things, antiques to some/extra junk to me, but I found her silver tea service which I figured might actually be useful some day, so I took that, and she was very pleased when my Dad told her I had selected it. I have some silver polish under the sink, so I think I'll find all the parts, polish them up, and set it up on my coffee table for a few days in honor of her.
The funeral is Thursday, and I thought I was going to be a pall bearer, but Dad is going to make all the men in the family do it instead. And I feel bad because I don't feel bad about her death. I mean, she was 98 years old for goodness sake. But I do wonder exactly what time she died, because I woke up around 5:30 am and kept going back to sleep for a minute or two, then waking up again.
So rest in peace, Grandma. You've earned it.