I hate my family, or the lack there of.

My great grandmother, Alice Thompson, passed away yesterday morning at the age of 98. Later this month, she would be 99. If you could imagine the most sweetest, kindest, gentlest woman in the entire world, she was it. No one could be warmer than her. She was possibly the most gorgeous woman when she was younger. She married a man and was completely loyal to him. She loved him dearly. She had two boys with him and sadly he passed away due to war-related injuries (I think). She remarried a man, even though she always loved her late husband more. I think she needed someone to care for her and for her to take care of. Anyways, she loved him dearly and he eventually passed due to an aneurysm. She was still a fighter though and brought up her two boys until they could take care of themselves. Still, she was a doting mother and a lovely woman. She was still that warm selfless person who cared for everybody. One day she met a man a little older than her, and they hit it off. They started dating and he spoiled her rotten. He bought her jewels, clothes, mink coats, etc. Everything a woman of the early 1900’s could ask for. She was cared for in every aspect and she deserved it. She thoroughly loved him but he still could never replace her first husband. She would love him until her last day. My mom told me that she used to call her on their anniversary and his birthday in tears just so my grandma could tell my mom stories about him. She could never forget. Her boyfriend passed because of an aneurysm. She was devastated and ceased to find a partner. She grew older, watching both her kids marry, and have children. She watched her grand kids get married and have children. She was surrounded by so much love and I think she was incredibly happy.

About two years ago, she suffered a stroke and when she woke up, she could remember nothing. She didn’t even know her own kids. I read to her a few times in hopes that she would be at ease. I read and talked to her in French because no one knew how far back her memory went(she was originally from Canada and learned English when she came to the US). I asked her about her family and her farm in Canada, and she always had tears nodding in recognition when I described it to her. The first thing she said was “You talk a lot”. I cried so much and I was so happy. She never regained her memory but she lived in a home with a nurse until she passed.

She gave all rights to my grandfather in regards to her funeral and medical needs, since she was no longer able to speak for herself. He passed away in January of this year and he then gave the rights to his brother; rightfully so. My grandmother wanted to be buried in a purple dress since it was her favorite color. But this morning my mom found out that there wont be a service held for her because she has been donated to science. As of right now, she is in Hudson Valley Morgue being embalmed and then she will be sent to Albany med so students can dissect her. This is not what she wanted. At all. My uncle is doing this so he can get the money from her life insurance. He wanted to keep the money for himself and not have to deal with the funeral. His own mother. His own flesh. The woman who carried him into this world. And now he’s destroying her. This is not what she wanted. I am so happy she is somewhere better, but this isn’t right and I pray for his soul right now; because when it comes time, I hope God judges him rightfully and he gets what he deserves. If you work in Hudson Valley or go to the morgue, can you say good bye for me? I’m not allowed to see her since I’m not in the mortuary science program. My mom is fighting for us to see her, to say goodbye, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to. I love you Gram.