Grief is a strange thing. I wouldn’t describe it as totally a feeling of sadness, which in part it is, but it’s also a sense of anxiety as well as fear (maybe those two are about the same thing). The sadness is because you will miss the person and probably because you aren’t sure what you said to them last or when you last saw them. Anxiety is the not knowing what to expect now that the person is gone. How will life be without them now? Fear is similar to anxiety, but the fear is especially present the days before the final services when you are scared of facing those very difficult emotions with the rest of your family. To me, it’s one of the worst feeling a human can endure. It took me years to accept the death of my Grandma Rosemary and there really isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her.
On Wednesday night, my mom called to tell me that my Grandma Marilyn passed away sometime in her sleep the days before. Her little heart just couldn’t go anymore. Grandpa had been out of town for business and found her when he came home. He always calls me as he passes by my city and the strange thing is that he told me that they were going to take grandma to see a specialist about a new heart valve in less than a week. About 2 hours later, I got the call from my mother.
I left work early yesterday because I just couldn’t be there. I was bombarded on Effbook by picture of my grandmother and I was texting and calling my family all morning. I just needed to go home and be by myself. I didn’t go to work today either. This is hitting me pretty hard I suppose.
When I grieve, I clean. Not just average cleaning either. Yesterday, I was cleaning very excessively. There isn’t a spot in my house that’s not clean. I even washed my car, shined the tires, and waxed it. I did the laundry and picked up some things at the store. I even gave Chester a bath. All of these things I did, I think, as a way to avoid addressing my feelings. I’d already cried more than a human should the night before. Crying is good in some ways, but it hurts after awhile. Plus, I’m a super ugly crier. I look just like a really upset infant.
The excessive cleaning took it’s toll and I hurt my left wrist. I can’t decide if it happened while I was viciously hand washing the car cleaning rags or when I was attacking a grease stain on the carpet from K’s bike escapades.
K has been so supportive and loving. I know it’s hard for someone who hasn’t lost a family member before to understand fully what it’s like to feel this way, but he’s doing his best and he knew my grandma and loved her too.
Chester is my living Kleenex. I don’t blow my nose on him, obviously, but he curled up next to me and let me cry on him Wednesday night. He has been especially sweet and hasn’t left my side for the past three days. It is strange how animals can sense our grief, but it is extremely comforting.
I love that fuzzball so much, even though this morning he left a hairball in the doorway.
I have these random spots throughout the day when something comes to mind about my grandma and I cry again. She was a really funny, but gentle woman. I will miss her so much. She had a particular smell, a really soft and pretty smell, and I will miss that about her too.
I am not looking forward to the services tomorrow, but it will be good to get some closure. I will try to be strong and do this. As the Koreans say, Fighting!
Thanks for your kindness and support as always.