It’s been four months and counting since losing her. The warm summer days have come and gone, and the cold of winter is now taking over. My English teachers always used to say winter symbolized loss or death. I always despised their abundance of analogies and I never quite connected the feeling of mourning to this specific season. That is until now. As my family begins to plan for the holidays, the absence of a family member becomes substantially more prominent. It was four months ago, in July, that my great grandmother passed away.
Dealing with her passing took a lot out of me mentally, physically and emotionally. However, my brain had entered a state of denial towards the end of the summer. School was just around the corner and I had to be sure to start the semester off on the right foot. As bad as it sounds, I hadn’t really noticed her absence in my life because she wasn’t a part of my everyday routine. The only times I’d see her was at family gatherings or when I went to visit her. Since I’ve been so busy with school, I haven’t gone to family gatherings, and since her passing I haven’t had a reason to go visit the nursing home. Because of this, my daily routine has remained the same, so her absence hasn’t been shoved in my face. However, now that the holidays have come around, planning for this time of year has brought that missing presence to light.
At Christmas, the majority of our familial activities revolved around her. Even something as simple as seeing which family members were going to come down for the holidays. If she had requested your presence, the plane tickets were immediately booked, no questions asked. But without her there this year, the turnout is already looking like less than we’ve ever had. Usually I get so excited and calm thinking about my family’s massive Christmas get togethers, but this time, I feel a sense of emptiness. I think about how every year, without failure there’s a designated time period set aside to take every possible variation of family photos. One with great grandma and her kids, one with just her and the grandkids, one of just her and the great grandkids, etc. The point I’m trying to make is all the different photos revolve around her sitting in the middle of everyone, smiling proudly amongst her lineage. It would surprise me if my family didn’t continue this tradition, but even still, having that missing centerpiece will be painfully obvious.
As hard as it is preparing to cope with her absence, there’s a certain beauty in it all. Yes, all these pictures will be missing something, but it’s important to remember that these pictures are still being taken. This means that even in the after life, she’s able to bring everyone together to continue to show that family truly matters. In fact, knowing that in every aspect of life, she continues to influence us and continue to make an impact in all our lives, without even physically being here. Having this outlook on the whole situation makes the symbolic cold of winter entirely disappear, leaving behind only her love and warmth.