There’s something about the love of a grandmother- it’s so pure, limitless, and unconditional. The connection between a grandmother and her grandchild can last a lifetime, and this rings true with me. I was her first grandchild and was the person to give her the very unique (yet iconic) nickname, “mema.” She was my safe haven. I followed her everywhere and did as much as I could with her. Nothing could make me happier than walking into her house, being greeted with her one of a kind hugs and her contagious smile, then sitting down to eat a homemade meal. From the way she started teaching me at the age of 3 to the way she made sure I stayed close to God, she’s 75% responsible for the person I grew up to be. Along with stressing the importance of education and God, she also instilled positive traits in me such as classiness, humbleness, and simplicity. She did not know she was teaching me this, but through the way she loved and cared for me and others so passionately, she taught me that love is vital. Love those who love you, love the life you live, and love the man above- this is what she embodied. She also stressed the importance of health- taking daily walks, vitamins, and eating the right things. Given how cautious she was, I seriously always thought she’d grow old enough to share her love with my own kids, but cancer knows no boundaries and God works in very mysterious ways.
In March of 2021, I had to quickly understand that my safe haven was now a ticking time bomb and her time was soon going to expire. Once her cancer was declared incurable, every encounter with her was no longer easygoing, rather just a reminder that our final goodbye was getting closer as the days went by. Eventually, three months passed and it was quite obvious that we were in our final moments. I knew better than to go on that trip to the Bahamas, but she promised to still be there once I returned. She hugged me a little longer and tighter than usual, blessed me with the sign of the cross, told me to always take care of myself, and said she loved me so, so much. 48 hours later, I was on the floor of my hotel bathroom in the Bahamas sobbing into a FaceTime call thanking her for all that she did for me during our 18 years together. One phone call was simply not enough given the extreme love I hold for her, but unfortunately, it was the only option I had. 72 hours later, the vacation was cut short and I was on a plane back home, only to get “home” and realize that I can’t ever go home anymore- she was my home. Like I said, I knew better than to go on that trip, and it is a regret that my guilt will never release. I suppose it is true that promises are meant to be broken, and intuitions should always be trusted.
It’s a given that death is a natural life event, but not even understanding this concept prepares you for the grief that comes with it. If there’s one thing I’ve gathered about grief, it’s the simple acknowledgment that there is absolutely nothing easy about it. There is nothing easy about the fact that the only cure to the situation would be having the ability to bring back that one person. Simply put, it is basically a strong desire for the impossible to come true. I find myself wanting to call her when I accomplish something since she truly supported my dreams and celebrated all of my successes, the minor and the major ones. There was nothing on this earth that she did not think I was capable of accomplishing- my true number one fan. On the other hand, I also wish I was still able to turn to her when I was troubled. I could be having the worst day, yet it would be turned right around as soon as I caught sight of her smile and felt the comforting hug only she was capable of giving. Just as I’d like to tell her about myself and have her be there for me, I would love to hear about what she was up to. It would make me happy to know that she was still going to church every Sunday, still traveling all over the country with friends and family, and still taking care of all of her plants in the backyard. I’d simply love to know that she was still overflowing with life the way she always did. Christmas this year was extremely difficult for us all. It was the first time we sat around the tree to distribute gifts at midnight without her there smiling and taking pictures of the amazing family she created. Although my family did their best to make it seem as normal as possible, there was still an unavoidable emptiness in the room. I now understand why some people dread the holidays, but even on the regular days with the family, it still pains me to see my grandfather without his soulmate sitting beside him. There are hundreds of moments that I took for granted, just because I thought there were hundreds of more memories that were waiting to be made.
“Moving on” from somebody who meant so much to you is simply not an option. Instead, you try to learn how to move around the huge gaping hole of their absence. Even through your attempts, there are just some days where you cannot avoid the fact that they are no longer here with you. Don’t blame yourself for feeling what you feel- there is just absolutely no way to not miss somebody that was one of the brightest stars in your constellation. There is not one single thing that is stagnant about grief either. They say that there are five stages to grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance), but the truth is, these stages don’t flow in order nor are they easy to understand. Just when you believe that it is reconciled, accepted, and you’ve made your closure, your grieving process starts all over again. You hear their name in public and it makes you turn almost instantly, only to feel your heart drop when you realize that the person people are referring to will never be the person you’re looking for. When you come across a video in your camera roll that has them in it, the sound of their voice makes you smile, yet cry because you wish things were still the same. Sometimes you stare at the picture frame that sits on your nightstand for a little too long, and it makes you reminisce on what it felt like to receive those types of hugs. When you wear a piece of their clothing, it unfolds you when you think about how it was once worn by them, and is now yours due to an unfortunate event. These tend to be my silent days, but these are the days when I miss her even louder. No matter what you do, somebody this close to your heart will never be forgotten, but I’d rather take the heartache than to not have experienced it at all.
The one beautiful thing that lies within grief is the belief that grief only exists where love once lived. Grief, in my opinion, is a journey you truly do have to conquer on your own. The only one who understands the true sincerity behind your love for that person is them. Therefore, others won’t understand the magnitude of your pain, and that is okay. They can be there to listen and help you in any way possible, but nonetheless, it is still a path you’ll walk at your own pace. I am still trying to figure out how to cope after eight months, and to be entirely honest, I am not sure if I will ever figure out how to deal with her absence. I will continue to pray that she visits me in my dreams, I’ll try to catch her in the rustling of the trees when a strong breeze hits, trust that she listens to me when I speak to her, and have faith in the thought that she is guiding me as I try to navigate through this life without her. At the end of the day, I am so blessed to have experienced a love as true as the one we shared even if it means I have to long for it for the rest of my lifetime. We used to always say, “I love you to the moon and back,” but the truth is, I now wish I could tell her that I love her way more than just to the moon and back.