I don't feel terribly cut up about it; she was very ill, having had a stroke last year, and a week ago she lost the ability to swallow or to speak. I'm glad that I went to see her on Wednesday, I had the chance to say goodbye and tell her that I loved her. And I did most of my mourning a year ago, when it became clear she was never going to fully recover.
I feel very detached at the moment. This doesn't seem real.
She was a wonderful woman, fiercely devoted to her family and a constant pillar of strength for my grandfather in his work all over Europe. I feel glad to call her my family, and grateful for the 22 years she was part of my life. And crap, I've made myself cry.