An Empty Vessel

On August 24th 2012 at 19:45 hours, Anna Fosmire, my beloved Grams, passed away into the ethereal plain.

My Gramps and I were by her side, holding her hands as she transitioned into her eternal slumber. As I watched her take her last breath. It was no easy image to behold. I never expected I would witness a loved one expire before my eyes, let alone someone so dear to me as my Grandmother. Without missing a beat I went through the motions of checking her pulses, placing my hand on her chest to feel for a heartbeat, lowering my ear to her chest listening for the faintest sounds of life to find none. She truly was gone.

Calling Hospice to notify them of her death was surreal. I felt numb. I could not believe what had just transpired before our eyes. I then proceeded to call the funeral home, my Mom, all the while trying to keep it together. I hugged my wife Senta, our children, my Gramps, and the caregivers. Senta had to take the kids home. I stayed to keep my Gramps company and to assist with any further tasks that arose as Hospice and the morticians arrived. I needed to take a drive first. To clear my mind and to pick up something to take the edge off of what we were experiencing. I picked up a small bottle of Irish whiskey and a 12-pack of beer.

Once I got home I cracked open the whiskey, poured shots for me, my Gramps, and the caregivers. We raised our glasses in honor of my Grams as I toasted her life, her love, and to the end of her suffering. She was a gentle soul with a huge heart, strong willed, and a love for nature. Also, she was classy, held strong to her traditions, and at times quite a private person. She inspired me in so many ways. A lot of my morals and valued stem from the life lessons she taught me both formally and informally. I hope I made her proud.

The empty vessel of her body was cremated on the 27th of August. Her life was celebrated at St. Mary's Church in Ballston Spa, NY on the 30th of August with a beautiful Catholic Mass surrounded by her loved ones. Later that morning she was buried at the Gerald B.H. Solomon Saratoga National Cemetery. At graveside we each kissed her urn to wish her safe journey as I, the last person to hold her in my arms, place her cremains into the columbarium. The niche is meant for two. When the time comes, her husband, my Gramps, will join her so they can be together again, in eternity. Goodbye Grams, rest in peace.