The ice covered trees were still. My mind felt ice covered. Numb. Still.I didn't want to let the thoughts I knew were lingering in my subconscious permeate my conscious.
They did anyway. Too much time to think on the slow drive home.
I knew the kiss I left on my grandma's forehead might be the last. And I almost hoped it could be. For her sake.
My mom asked me to read a book. A book about what to expect when someone is dying.
It was hard to read. But it did make it easier to come to grips with what is happening.
I just wish I were closer. Wish I could be there with my grandma, for my mom. Wish I could make her pain go away.
She is one of the most amazing people I have ever known. Her strength. Her wisdom. Her independence. Her quiet way of love.
I hope in some selfish way she holds on until tomorrow night. So I can tell her those things.
4 comments:
It is so hard to be such an intimate part of the dying process but you are growing, and adapting and slowly learning how to let go in this world and this tiny bit of slow grieving is good. Truly.
Even if tomorrow she is gone from your presence, she will know all of these things to be true, and she certainly knows your love for her without a shadow of a doubt. We do not need to utter words outloud for our love to be known, and you have demonstrated your love in so many beautiful ways, she will never lose sight of that.
I know how difficult this must be for you. Your love for your grandma -- indeed, for your whole family -- has always permeated your writing. I'm so sorry for you, but I'm glad to know that you now know it's best for her to go. Just remember, saying goodbye is hard, but letting go doesn't have to be. You will all be in my prayers.
It's never easy. Just be sure to say what you need to.
in heaven it is probably even easier to understand that its not what you say, it's how you feel.
Post a Comment