Be still my heart. This has been a whirlwind of a week, I’ll grant you that.
Nothing ever goes as planned and it’s a tenant of life that I should well equipped to deal with by now. But when things take a turn, and surprise, shock, sadness, and anger take hold… man, it can knock the wind out of you.
Mark’s grandmother, Ginny C., passed away this week at the ripe age of 92. Apparently, she would have been 93 this weekend.
This is an incredible feat by my own, and apparently some others, standards. My view is skewed considering the ages at which my parents died (55 & 45), so 92 seems quite literally like an entirely other lifetime. I imagine the things she’s been through. She’s been there right along with history. She was born before the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924. There was a point in her life when I wouldn’t have been considered an American citizen. Crazy.
And because of my experiences with death, I thought I would be able to deal with this one so much easier.
WRONG. In fact, my biggest take away from this last week is that I now realize just how different every situation is. I can never be ready for death, others or my own, because every one of them will be different. Different relationships, different meaning, different circumstances, and different times. Oh, the naivety. Is it weird that at 23, I can pinpoint my young, naive shortcomings?
This was the first death that’s close to me since my Mom. And what’s worse is that its had a heartbreaking effect on the one person who I see as my rock. He’s my emotional pillar of strength. I’ve never met someone who loved his grandparent as much as he does his parents. My heart was breaking for him as it was recalling not-so-distant memories. It crumbled more when I heard his mom talk about her final moments with her mom. In an instant, my throat closed, eyes swelled, and water works galore.
Oof, that is absolutely the worst pain in the world. The kind of pain that starts on the inside, and it has no way of healing except to let time run its course. Even then, it never truly heals.
Needless to say, this has been a rough week.
To you, if you’ve lost a loved one and know exactly what I mean. hugs.
To you, if you’ve never lost a loved one… you will. And you won’t be alone. You’re never alone on this one.
My parents left me with one of the most practical, necessary, and cherished pieces of wisdom that I could have asked for. It transcends all other lessons on the sheer fact that it is a truth that can’t be denied. It is a truth that we all will experience, it’s not limited to myself and whoever else my parents touched in their lives.
“We won’t be here forever. We are going to die. But you have to remember one thing…
Life goes on…”