Flashback to my grandmother

B's grandfather is elderly (duh) and not exactly in the best health. Recently, he has had to spend sometime at a nursing home to get back on his feet. 

We went to visit him.

Nursing homes must all be about the same. We walked in signed in and followed the signs to his room. 

In a heartbeat, I was back with my grandmother on a hot summer day instead of a winter one.  I did not anticipate this. Maybe I should have. 

My vision shifted, my ears roared, and my heart pounded.  It was just like my grandmother. B's grandfather's room was at the end of the hallway, and that hall went on forever.  Each step moving us backwards instead of forwards.

She has not been gone for very long, only 18 months, but still, I think of her daily.  I made her fudge for the holidays. I looked at her needle work and admired it.

My grandmother was pretty darn great, and I miss her.

Everyone Grieves Differently

We are all individuals so it shouldn't be so surprising should it?

Each of us grieve differently. Sometimes this does not go over so well when one's way of grieving drastically are opposed to another person- especially in close family.

Some people like to be around others and share memories, talk about the person who passed.  Others turn to prayer, others take charge and get things done.

Each of these types clearly has its practical application.

I am  the type of person who gets anxious. I can't sleep.  I get a nervous stomach. I want to hide.  My grief is private.

So it is hard.  Hard to balance the needs of my kids, the needs of my other family.

You see, my grandmother and I were not always particularly close.  I mean, I loved her- of course- but I felt it was a distant love- she was so amazing and so wonderful- I felt I could never measure up.

In the past several years, I became close to her. It was hard to visit her, bringing all of the kids to see her- being quiet is not there strong suit- she loved seeing them.  I loved seeing her with them.  They played with the same coasters that I played with as a kid.

My grief is more wavy. Sometimes I need to be away from everyone. Alone.  I can remember her. I can remember her laugh, her smile, her amazing fudge.

Its a basic reaction kids do something funny- I think how she'll smile or laugh when she hears about it.  Then its back.  I don't need to tell her. I can't tell her. Her soul is next to Gd.

My kids are still little not all of them will have a clear memory of her.  Her memory will be honored though.  My kids will learn what she taught me, aside from making fudge, she taught me strength, compassion, and love.