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In January 2010, my grandmother died in England due to serious health conditions. My mom and grandma were the people who raised me, and she was the matriarch of the family, a family of only 4 people (including her). My uncle was addicted to drugs at the time, however, he is two years sober and clean, has his driving license, a car and a home, now. My mom and I were in Los Angeles at the time going through horrible troubles (financial and medical issues). I was 13 when she died. She had a major part in my upbringing, two weeks before she died she spoke with my mom over the phone and said she was feeling a lot better, however the call ended in an argument between my mom and her, as my mom wanted her to come to Los Angeles. I can't really remember the last time I spoke with her over the phone, I do remember the time I spoke with her in person, which was about a month before she died.
My uncle informed me just now that the funeral is set for this Wednesday coming up. Over 4 years after the death due to many other traumatic events happening and delaying life.
I had a dream about her two days ago, she asked me what I was doing and said "you're dying" "wait, you're dead" and started bursting out in tears.
One week before she died, my mom bought me a book at the post office. The book was "Me and Grandma," it was meant to be filled in with our best memories. I never got to tell her about it. I never got to fill it. It's in my apartment right here. Every time I look it I just get really sad.