In the days, weeks and months that followed the loss of my Grandmother, I have struggled to stay afloat. My identity has been so wrapped up in her, and having her to model myself after, that I have struggle to find my footing in reality.
The first weeks, with [husband]’s children here, I tried to hard to maintain a face of calm control. I could barely make it a couple of hours without a breathtaking breakdown, but I somehow thought it better to protect them from my pain. I wanted so desperately to impress them and make a good impression. Obviously their real impression was one of instability and desperation. The timing was terrible.
What a learning experience! While we did manage to have some really great times with the littles while they were here, all that really stands out about their visit in retrospect is the overwhelming grief. I needed it, I suppose. It took many weeks for me to make it an entire day without weeping myself out of breath.
I miss my Grams so deeply. A part (possibly my favorite part) of myself has perished along with her. In the moments of reflection on her influence, I realize I must fight to hold on to her magical spirit, to keep her wonder alive within me and spread it to others. It must be conscious, as it hurts all the time. But, I think it will become more natural over time. As with anything, we adapt and manage to get through even the deepest despair. I still cry. I still reach for the phone and call out to her with my mind, begging for reply. But it’s easier now.
There’s a knowing that she is gone, and that I’ve made it through the hardest part (goodbye). I hope I can go on in life and make her proud. I hope she doesn’t miss me like I am missing her. It’s getting easier. I can talk about her sometimes without crying. I can look at her sweet face and smile for the love we shared.
I am adapting! Step-parenting has become lots of fun. I’ve managed to reconnect with my husband when, in my grief, I wanted only to wallow and not have him attempt to comfort me and fail. Love and order has restored itself, mostly.
So it goes. So, we grow.