Once upon a time there was a kitten named Buttons...

For those of us who spent any time down at the house in Huntington Harbour... we knew this kitten well and all the stories that were told to us as we would fall asleep at night while we spent weekends with our grandparents. I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the two kids that owned the kitten though... I want to say Micheal and Jane... but I could be wrong.

But as of yesterday, these stories will no longer become words again spoken by their originator, Jacqueline Louise Scott-Paulson.

I received the call from my mother yesterday evening at 5:41pm informing me quite simply... "It's over"... I knew even before answering the phone what was going to be said. And yet I still answered it anyway. Nothing like watching a hockey game and receiving the call that you had been dreading but knew was coming any day now. Kind of really put a damper on the mood in our place for a bit... that damper is still there but we are all dealing with it in our own way right now. I buried myself in a few pints of Guinness and some World of Warcraft with the hockey game in the background... CacheCrash buried himself in manga and then World of Warcraft... we all deal with this stuff differently. And my concern was trying to figure out exactly what kind of policy ATCO has for bereavement leave... and would I be able to afford taking any time off.
My answer came this morning when my manager called me up and stated that there was no formal policy in place because it had not really come up before. And those who did take time off for such things did so using up personal vacation days. Slight problem... I have no sick nor vacation days until I have been here for one year. I'm sorry, you can't properly mourn the passing of a loved one since you haven't been here long enough yet.
Not going to fly... but I am pressuring my manager to find out for me. Since I seem to be the first person to inquire about such a policy... I'm setting a precedent I guess. If I knew the personnel policies of this company were so fucked up I don't think I would have accepted the position. Seriously... HR? What's that?

But I digress... this entry isn't to bitch about work or other crap... it's supposed to be a place for me to remember and somehow pay tribute to a woman who was loved by more than just her family... but also by her long list of friends and acquaintances from over the many, many years that she was alive.

Family who knew her called her mom or grandmother... friends called her Jacque... but we all called her ours. Even if she didn't approve of a hairstyle... or clothing style... or the fact that we had piercings... she said so in her own way that let you know that she personally didn't like it but it was also our choice. "Oh Chris... what are we going to do with this long hair of yours?"
But that is what grandparents are all about right? Sure, we might not see eye to eye... but they also knew that whatever we did as we grew up was our own choices. For me it was ink and metal and oddly colored hair. But for me I think the biggest thing was that when she was disappointed in you about something you knew it and you genuinely felt like shit about it for quite a while. This wasn't a parent's scorn... this was a grandparent's disappointment. And believe me... once you had that grandparent disappointment, you never wanted to go through that feeling again.

To many she was a friend... and she had many of them. Whether they were those who knew her when she worked side-by-side her late husband James H. Scott (Jim to most... Grandfather to some of us) at their company Scott Engineering, Inc... or those who knew her through church. She was never short of people who she was willing to give a helping hand to... an open ear... a shoulder...
If you wanted ever wanted someone to confide in... she was the person to do so. Yes, she had her religious beliefs but it was not something that she forced on anyone. Her life was her testimonial. She lived that life according to her beliefs and did not falter from those beliefs (at least not that I ever saw).
After the passing of James Scott, she continued living life... never openly questioning why he was taken from her... and she remained strong in her religious beliefs and remained strong as a person. Years later she married Gunner Paulson and she was happy until he ended up passing away. From then on she remained a widow and being the strong matriarch for the Scott and Paulson clan. And I personally never really thought about a day when she would not be around... until a few weeks ago when I received the call that she had gone in to remove a tumor from her brain. That was the kick back into reality that life and death are not discriminatory. Someone that I thought would always be there (foolishly thought because this is real life that we're dealing with) was now going to be leaving us at some point... when that would be though was unknown.
Initially we thought it was going to be months... and last week it was discovered that the tumor had grown back and had grown fifty percent in size beyond the original tumor and would keep on going... and months became weeks... and just last week it became days. She had stopped taking nourishment and liquids. The only thing being given to her was morphine drops to kill the pain and some sort of anti-seizure medicine (I am assuming drops or shots since she wasn't taking in liquids). Visitation went from friends and family to just family. She slept and we would take turns sitting with her... and that was how it was from Friday until yesterday. We (me, Milady, and CacheCrash) ended up spending half the day down there on Saturday... and contemplated returning again on Sunday.
Now, I'm glad we didn't... we did get to see her one last time... spend time with this woman who was the epitome of strength lying there in extremely weak and frail. Not the same person I had known for the past thirty-three years. Nothing is more heart-wrenching than seeing an image of someone in a certain light and then seeing the reality of the situation right there in front of you. It's crushing... depressing... difficult. But in the end the best part is that we know she is not suffering any longer... and she gets to be with Jim and Gunner again. And for us... we have the memories... and some of us have Buttons, that ever so mischievous kitten...

Glad that you were my grandmother... any grandchild would have been proud to have had you for their own...



*without the ChocoJournal up yet, I couldn't really figure out where to post this up and this was the place according the "Read Me First" in Quiet Place even though this isn't angsty*

Jam it back in, in the dark.