A month ago I lost my grandma.
It would be so easy for me to say the last month has flown by, that it hardly seems like she’s gone. I’d be lying if I said that.
On a personal level I’m feeling better after spending months in a bad place. But I miss my grandma everyday.
I lived with her for nearly 14 years, right? And every time I’d go back home since moving in October (almost weekly) she would light up and ask me how I’ve been doing at my apartment or how work was going. It seems so small, but I MISS THAT.
The reason I’m writing this is because the last month has not flown by. It’s gone by slower than any month of my life. And time going forward isn’t going to fly by. Time doesn’t really fly by after you lose someone until you simply start to forget them. I can’t see myself doing that. I’ll have different experiences as I progress through my own years, but my grandma isn’t someone I’ll forget. Not now or a year from now or a decade from now because never again will I get to call someone grandma.
During my grandma’s eulogy I asked everyone in attendance to continue to tell their stories they had of her. I’m going to tell my first one today.
This is so low on the spectrum of memories or importance, but I have time to tell more important ones later.
I don’t know when exactly this took place. My parents currently have two dogs. Maya and Chico. They’re largely the same. Both small. Both go crazy when someone gets home. And both will sleep on anyone in the house.
At some point early last year when I was still at home I walked by my grandma’s room and she was lying down watching TV. She was very small in her later years, right? So she was lying on her side just watching TV. And then I noticed Chico somehow lying on top of her shoulder, asleep. She was awake.
Chico does that with everyone in the house. But I guess I just wasn’t expecting to see him there. I also wasn’t expecting her to just let him stay.
Honestly, it was just nice. I don’t remember what my exact reaction was but I’m sure I smiled. When I went on vacation last year for 8 days Chico cried by my door. So I know he knows she’s not home. But it’s okay. He’s a tough little guy.
I began the year by posting daily about my own personal struggles in recent months. I haven’t posted in recent weeks because all the things I’d been writing about worsened and worsened to the point of me texting someone at 4 in the morning a couple of weeks ago that I was on the verge of complete collapse.
But it was something entirely unexpected that caused this. My grandma fell ill.
I’m going to be completely honest with y’all. As an adult I’ve always maintained the attitude that death shouldn’t sadden us the way it typically does because every one of us will reach that day. My grandma was the closest relative I’ve lost. All of my other grandparents died when I was younger. I have memories of and with them, but I had my grandma twice as long as all the others. And I lived with her for 14 years.
She left us on the 19th. I went home from the hospital and cried all night. I’ve cried every day since. I’ve never cried more at any point during my 26 years.
I delivered the eulogy on the 25th. It was the single greatest honor of my life to tell everyone about my grandma and what I learned from her. Her funeral was the 26th. I’m still not sure I can handle this going forward.
But one thing I learned throughout all of this is that I’ve been mistaken for a really long time. I’m not alone, no matter how I might feel. I’ve had old friends reach out to me. But even more importantly, I’ve come to realize I have my family. It shouldn’t take death to realize this.
I already miss my grandma more than I can possibly put into words here. But I’m so much better off because of the two and a half decades I had with her.
Let my experience possibly be a lesson for you. We’ll all experience the feeling of loneliness I’ve been experiencing, but we aren’t alone. Not really. Not a single one of us.