still I miss her.
still I cry.
it will be two months on the 19th.
it's been over two months since I saw her smile or the sparkle in her green eyes.
i miss you, grandma.
Grandma and Neely, 3/25/10
Grandma and Neely, Easter 2010
This pic kills me. We were just being so silly while cooking, Christmas 2008
Grandma on the left, her bff (until the day she died) on the right. circa 1946
It's been 3 weeks and 2 days since she left us and I still can't believe it.
Last night was her memorial service in Las Vegas. It was beautiful and sad and happy.
There came a point during the video memorial that my aunt made for her that I wished I was in a room alone so that I could lay on the floor and cry.
But, I was surrounded by my grandma's family and friends and I felt it necessary to hold myself together.
I've been doing that for weeks now.
I think seeing my cousin cry before the funeral started reminded me, "Hey, it's your grandma's funeral. It's okay to cry."
That should be obvious but I have felt like I need to be strong because no one else has been showing their sad side.
But I don't know if I'm going to choose to be that strong anymore.
She was my precious, dear grandma. She loved me fiercely. I loved her fiercely.
I tried to always make a point to stay close with my grandparents. Even when I didn't live near them (which was most of my life), even when I had 14 million other things to do. I cherished them . And that's not to say I'm so great or deserve an award, it's just perhaps a reminder to you to cherish the grandparents in your life. To make time for them. Because their generation is the greatest generation.
I loved hearing my grandma's stories, I loved giggling with her on the phone.
This morning as we were getting ready to drive back home from Las Vegas, I thought I heard my grandma's voice downstairs. I got excited and in a split second remembered.
She's gone.
Brett thought he heard her too.
My mom has had a couple great dreams about her.
I want to dream about her too. I want to talk to her again and hug her again and kiss her.
<cue the ugly cry>
I want so bad to look across the dinner table Christmas Eve and catch her eye and smile.
I want to pick up the phone and call her and make her laugh.
I want to write her more letters. I want her to be able to write back.
I want to play Skip-Bo with her.
I want to walk downstairs in the morning at my parent's house and have her offer me cereal or toast and I want to see her disapproving look when I tell her I am not hungry.
I want to see her loving on Neely, her great-granddaughter.
I want to see the love in her eyes for my grandpa, her husband of 55 years.
I miss her. I miss her. I miss her.
There is a void in my life. I think I will notice it more and more as the days and weeks pass by.
Obviously this is selfish because she's happier now than I can imagine, but I miss her.
I think I'm still a bit shocked that she's actually gone. The day before her stroke she was here. She was okay.
I am lucky because I have no regrets about her. I always knew she was proud of me and thought I was wonderful and beautiful.
She never had a cross word with me.
This weekend I found letters I had written her that she saved. She didn't save them all, only some, but in one I wrote, "I think that if you and I were the same age we would have been good friends." And it's true.
Oh my grandma, I miss you terribly. I always will.
The past few weeks of my life have been incredibly difficult.
I watched my grandma die.
I didn't watch her take her last breath, but I watched her die all the same.
Handling grief when you have an extremely smart and aware toddler is interesting. You can't just fall apart whenever you want. You can't collapse into a sobbing heap in front of them. Toddlers do not need to be exposed to that kind of emotion.
My grieving process began before my grandma actually died. I grieved over her every day while I was in Las Vegas. My grief was limited to my morning shower (while Neely was in her playpen in another room) and to solo car rides. I would cry so hard I felt my eyes would pop out of my head. I cried so hard I couldn't see while driving. I would cry so hard my face would be swollen all day. I'm pretty sure that week and a half aged me several years.
I don't think I've ever cried so hard in my life.
Then she died and...nothing.
Well, there were some tears but not a ton. I guess that's what happens when you've already cried daily for two weeks.
Now I'm back home and trying to go about my business as usual. But I will get these random "I'll never" or "she'll never" thoughts. Thoughts like "She'll never again be my pen pal," "I'll never again get kissed by her," etc. And I wince and push the sadness down. I'm kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the deluge to commence.
Her funeral is on the 4th.
I am basically writing this to say, I am sad. I am terribly sad and as Christmas draws near I will probably be more sad.
BUT.
I will act happy. I will be smiling and seem normal.
Don't mistake my act for thinking I'm no longer sad.
My grandma left a giant hole in my life and it will take some time to recover.
