Grandma Doyle passed away yesterday afternoon at around a quarter after four. Leslie called Ian about twenty minutes after it happened, and he came out on the porch where I was writing to tell me after getting off the phone. This was not unexpected, however. The nursing home had called Ian’s parents to tell them that she probably wasn’t going to make it much longer, and I think that was either Friday evening or Saturday afternoon. I’ve been writing so much over the weekend that I’ve rather lost track of time. She held out for a while to visit with everyone who came to see her though, but everyone knew she had made up her mind that she was going.

For my part, I really didn’t know her all that well. My memories of Grandma Doyle are few because Ian and I have spent most of our time together away from LGT. I remember her at Thanksgivings long ago, and she was at our wedding way back in uh, some year. I’m not sure how long exactly, but I think that for a good portion of the time that I’ve been in Ian’s life, that she has been in either an assisted living community or the nursing home. I really never got to know Grandma Doyle like I did Grandma Nolan or Grandma Ringwald: in their own homes doing whatever it was that they normally did even when visitors were over. Grandma Nolan would forego conversation for coffee (without it, she was a little loopy and conversations were odd sans coffee so it was generally best to let her have her cup), and Grandma Ringwald would just keep cooking, crocheting, or gardening and make people take their chats to where she was. I never got to see that side of Grandma Doyle, but that’s pretty much because while I grew up with my own grandmothers, I came into Grandma Doyle’s life pretty late, especially since I married the youngest, putting us way down on the end of the younger grandchildren (I’m among the oldest tier for both sides of my family but Ian’s pretty much the end for both sides of his). But while I didn’t know Grandma Doyle all that well, it will be odd not having her in my life anymore. I had gotten pretty used to asking Ian’s parents about how she was doing and hearing Dad talk about his latest visits with her. She will be missed.

I don’t know when the funeral is going to be, but I’ll probably post about that later. For now, it’s time for my caffeine so I’ll stop having loopy conversations with Ian.