My word of 2018 is consistency. But then life REALLY got in the way. On December 31st, New Years Eve, my grandmother, my best friend, went into the hospital because she was short of breath. For a couple of days things seemed to be going very poorly. My father and I went up to see her on January 6th and things seemed to be turning around. Her vitals were all coming back positive and she was getting ready to go to a rehabilitation center.
I brought her a picture of me in my wedding dress because I wanted to show her she had so much to live for. She had prayed for so long that I would find someone who would love me the way she did and I did find that someone. There was no one who deserved to be at my wedding more than my Grandma.
A couple of days after entering rehab, things started to go poorly. I got to see her the day before she passed and tell her everything I wanted to tell her, but I know her mind was already with my Grandpa in heaven.
On January 15, 2018, my 33rd birthday, my Grandma left to be with my Grandpa in heaven.
My grandmother, Florence, was like the sun in the sky. Her voice was so happy and positive and her spirit could lift anyone up. After getting off of the phone with her or seeing her, I felt as if I could do anything. She loved to love and didn’t realize how much love she had to give.
On the other hand, she had a side of her that she never even realized how hilarious she was. We called her Joan Rivers. Her sarcasm and wit lasted until the end. When the paramedics came to get her from the rehab center the EMT asked her what the problem was, her response? “I’m pregnant”.
I still don’t know how to grieve for a woman who literally built me into the person that I am today. I don’t know if I have grieved for her yet. This week I have walked around feeling like a zombie. I’m thankful to have a cold this week, because I can blame it on that, but I know it’s more than that.
Grief is different for everyone and everyone handles it differently. Every experience of grief is also very different. When my Grandfather passed I cried for what feels like weeks. This week I am dying to cry, dying to get a release.
But as an adult, maybe I have to create my release. I have to talk about her, talk about my feelings, say everything I wanted to say and know that it’s ok not to be ok for a bit.
So if you’re grieving or have grieved, I’m sorry (even though I hate when people say that to me) and don’t feel pressured to explain your grief to anyone.
This is one of the shittest parts of growing up.