I am the greatest granddaughter alive.

Well…sometimes.

Despite the fact, I often complain about the greatest woman ever and quote her for the internet’s enjoyment, I do try to be a good granddaughter. Seeing as we are each other’s only family in town, sometimes I agree to go places which I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY DESPISE.

Today, I spent a portion of my afternoon at the hospital for a memorial service for people who have died in hospital in the last year. I have major death issues. I think everyone knows that. I do not go to funerals unless forced (which usually ends up being every 1.5 years when someone in my family dies.)

My uncle’s death last summer was awful yet necessary. He was suffering and it was extremely sad yet somewhat of a blessing. I figured I would be okay at this memorial service. I would say a prayer, sing a song, and eat some cake. End of Story.

Ha.

It turns out that most of the other people were not so okay with the loss of their loved ones. People were crying. There was one young fellow sitting besides us who was quite emotional through the whole service. He was attempting the tough, “I’m not going to cry” act and failing miserably by rocking back and forth, biting his lip and not quite holding back the tears. He seemed to be alone with another younger fellow and I was this close to offering hugs or some kind of socially awkward condolences.

The young grieving fellow was one of many criers in the room. There were older people in wheelchairs, crying. Entire families were all joining hands and crying.

I tried to be rational and repeated to myself: “Laura, do not cry because other people are crying.”

Finally, I gave up and took out the kleenex. If you can’t beat them, join them.

As for the young fellow, the rest of his entire family was seated elsewhere. I saw them in the lobby where they were all crying which got me started again. Since I need to be tough for my grandma (HA.), i tried to hide my emotions and instead ate too many pieces of nanaimo bar.

Now I am at home, grieving the loss of an uncle I had stopped “grieving” for this morning, sad for the total strangers who lost people they loved and on the verge of puking because of too many rich, chocolate pastries.

You better be happy, Grandma. :)