My grandmother passed away a week ago. It was sudden, but almost not surprising. Not that she was sick. When it happened, it was a huge shock. But the truth was that she was lonely and really missed my grandfather. She died of a heart attack about a month before my grandpa would have been gone a year.
Naturally, I didn't handle it well. Once the shock wore off, there was the numbness, and then it hit and it hit hard. When I grieve, I think of little things, like how I won't have her to call anymore on Sundays and how she won't be at my wedding. I repeated conversations with her in my head, especially in the past few months when I said "I'll talk to you next week" and "I'll see you next time in Michigan." Just a reminder from the man above that you can say that, but there are no guarantees.
On Tuesday I woke up feeling better, realizing that my grandma was in a better place with my grandpa. There will always be moments I tear up, but there's nothing else to do but move on. I have to admit that being in Kansas and not going home for the funeral probably helped. The sadness in Michigan was most definitely much worse.
Now I'm working to get back in the groove. This past week I went to a writer's group meeting and made plans to meet up with one of my friends for knitting lessons. Tomorrow we're going to a co-worker's for a party. I'm trying to be more social and I'm trying to get back into my normal routine. I'm not doing too bad on that either. I've been writing some, reading some, getting addicted to Luxor, and trying to get back to blogging.
The day my mom broke the news to me, I couldn't believe the world was still going. I wanted it to stop. But it's a good think it didn't, because I still have some life to live, and since I don't know when my time is, not staying in limbo is probably the best thing to do. But I'll always miss and love my grandmother. Always.