#i hope they get daytime tv in the astral plane

[dark-muse-iris]

Saying goodbye to a General Hospital superfan, my grandma, who passed today

Today, my last grandmother departed her body after a long struggle with dementia. Although she could no longer communicate with her family, she hung on for two days with the aid of astute hospice staff until her children could say goodbye to her in person. She went as peacefully as her countenance had always been, and for that I'm thankful.

I'm sharing her passing here because she was one of the first to teach me about women's roles in fandom and the power of slow-burn dramas. She was a seasoned consumer of the nail-biting suspense that comes from having one devoted ship, that pair of characters you want to last through thick and then--FOREVER--only to witness that ship get dashed on the rocks in a chaotic, mid-season cliffhanger.

You see, my grandma was an avid fan of daytime soap operas. She was a hard General Hospital stan since the 1980s and not only memorized the story arcs of generations of characters like they were her own family, but she kept current on the actors' career movements by reading soap opera tabloids you can still buy in the grocery store line. She taught me which tabloids were good and which ones were trash for following soaps.

After decades of watching the series, she was keen at predicting the twists and turns of any story arc. I didn't know why that mattered so much as a child until I learned it was sporting for her to be in everyone's business. But it wasn't enough to know what was happening with her faves. When the writing proved her right again the following week, she'd offer new critiques to the tinfoil-wrapped television set, stamping out her cigarette in the ashtray next to her bed. Had she been given different opportunities other than being a textile worker and mother of two in a small town, she might have given those writers a run for their money.

She was not only the first critic I ever met, but she was also the first hardcore shipper I ever encountered. She had a MAJOR crush on the character of Sonny Corinthos: a cold, calculating mobster played by Maurice Bénard, an actor twenty years her junior. The age gap never slowed down her devotion, even when my grandma was put on oxygen years later. It was Sonny into the sunset, no matter what crimes he committed season after season. She watched her man bounce from lady to lady and would not only judge his conquests like a marriage counselor who sees the trainwreck coming in advance, but she held hope for YEARS that he would go back to the ex who had been his best match, Carly (played most notably by Laura Wright). She wanted that ship to sail even after Carly remarried and had another man's baby--which is exactly what happened around the time I was in college. 🤣

My best memories with my grandma were after school when soaps would come on. My sisters and I would walk to the corner store, buy a Hostess honey bun, then run back to her small, one-bedroom rental and ask, "What did we miss last week?" Because we KNEW we had missed a ton if it had been more than two days.

"Wellllllllll....." she'd say, and that was the start of a wild recap. We'd hang on to every word like it was the best gossip in town. For a middle schooler first dipping my toes into soap operas, I didn't know how expansive organized crime story arcs could be--not until my grandma taught me what I was missing. At that age, I didn't see any value in witnessing steamy infidelity on screen until it magically played out in some explosion or hostage situation twenty episodes later. But my grandma always saw it coming like a daytime soap opera oracle. She would not only know when shit was about to hit the fan, but she knew how the jury would rule on the future court case and how the town of Port Charles would take the news.

It's been a lot to think on for me today. I never told my grandma that I was writing stories as ridiculous and far-fetched as her soaps. By the time I had any confidence in telling anyone how I was spending my free time, the dementia had set in and she had been relocated to a senior living facility that had restricted visitors in order to keep her safe throughout the illness. I don't live with regrets for things outside of my control, but I've missed her a lot since that time and always hoped someone had left General Hospital on for her.

It's hard to lose another family member in two years without the chance to say goodbye like I hoped. It doesn't get easier. As I'm unable to go home, I'm going to spend some time writing and doing things she loved to remember her.