. . . On Grief

I lost my grandma this week. That is such a simple statement that is full of complexed meanings and deep emotions. I did more than lose her.

She passed away. She passed beyond. It’s more than just away, it’s an abyss of foreverness that separates us.

She’s in a better place. A better place where there is no tears and no sorrow. She served her entire life and deserves to be in a joyful, better place. Knowing that doesn’t chase away the pain I feel in my chest from her loss. I feel lost.

She was her hardest critic often questioning her own heart, but her heart was so big, giving and loving. She also loved hard, and she expected love in return.

My sister and I care gave for her this past year. My sister helped her longer, with other things while she lived on her own, but my grandmother raised us. She took us in when my parents couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of us.

It was the least that we could do, but it was so little that we did. I hope she felt the love in her last hours and knew that we were there.

In my heart, I feel like she did, even as she took her last breath.

We will honor her this coming weekend. This weekend feels so far away, but it also feels like it’s coming too fast all at once like I need to breathe for a minute yet I can’t catch my breath.

This grief is ripping apart my insides; it’s raw and gritty. And I wonder if it will ever go away.  I know that it won’t go away. It will just fade until something reminds me of her, or one of my senses betray me and remind me of her.

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