This month has been a blur. But really I guess that could be said of this whole year. There has been so many changes and so much loss. Most recently my grandmother Trinidad, my mom’s mom, passed away. She was my last living grandparent and with her death a door to apart of my childhood seems to have closed. Now, I haven’t been a child for many years now yet her passing seems to somehow have pulled me back to that time of my life.
Carefree Years
In my childhood I was blessed to have wonderful grandparents on both sides. But going over to grandma Trini’s house was a little different. Throughout my whole childhood she lived on her own. At the time I never thought of how amazing and difficult life must have been for her. Of course I didn’t, what child ever sits and thinks of such things?
Her home was always welcoming and she enjoyed gathering all of her grandkids under one roof. My childhood seems to play out clearest in my memory at my grandparent’s homes. Laughter, great food, tons of sweets, and big hugs could always be found. And on those special occasions when one of my cousins and I both got to sleepover we would play late into the night. Only passing out in our sleeping bags on the living room floor when the sun started to rise.
Grandma Moves In
As she aged my mom became concerned about my grandma living on her own. There may have been many reasons for that, but one day my grandma agreed. She packed up her home, where she had lived freely and independently for so long, to stay with my parents. We all gathered one last time at grandma’s house. My uncle seemed quiet and hard to read while my cousins were clearly sad. I didn’t get it, but they so clearly did. Once she sold her home it was an end of sorts. No more Thanksgiving around her table or Christmas presents under her tree. I was too distracted to see that chapter close.
Though by this time I was already married and in my own home, I was happy that I would get to see her more often. I didn’t appreciate what my cousins were losing. And I didn’t know how much I would miss that house with its narrow hallways and wooden paneled walls. She lived with my parents for 15 years. The moment I got the news that she had passed I found myself back under that roof with my memories of her.
https://www.focusonthefamily.com/get-help/moving-forward-dealing-with-grief/
New Reality
Her time with my parents seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. And her failing health in the last few years nearly erased the memories of the times when she was happy and healthy. Her Friday hair appointment, which she went to once a week like clockwork, began to be missed until they were cancelled completely. From walking independently, to needing a walker, to being confined to bed.
Sometimes I couldn’t help but think for a moment that aging was cruel. When your mind could no longer control your body. And you had to rely on others to help you complete the simplest tasks. But the truth is aging is a gift. Look anywhere around the world and you’ll see that living a long life is far from guaranteed. To grow old is to be blessed with time. Time to see your child grow up and marry, and then have kids of their own. I don’t believe we’d truly appreciate life without death. Though the sight of that empty bed still causes my heart to ache, I am relieved with the knowledge that she is free from pains and worries of this life.
https://www.ladydspeaks.com/joy-in-any-season/
Healing Day By Day
Though I have grieved differently for each of my grandparents it has always been deeply. Grief has been like a fog. Rolling in and nearly blocking everything from sight. In part I believe my grief is compounded by the knowledge that this is the first death my girls have experienced. I am very aware of how these moments that change and shape a person. So I’ve done my best the talk about it (death) when they’ve had questions. Or hold them tightly when their hearts were heavy. As much as I’ve taught them during this time, they have taught me so much more.
I can say in all honesty I have never felt hopeless over loss. I credit that to my faith. It has carried that weight on many occasions. Truly, I don’t know what I would have done without it. It’s not that my faith prevents me from feeling pain, because I have and do, but it does dull it. Because I know this goodbye is only temporary. Though we will be laying her body to rest I know this isn’t the end.
We will miss you fiercely grandma, until we meet again.
