The history of our grandparents is remembered not with rose petals but in the laughter and tears of their children and their children’s children. It is into us that the lives of grandparents have gone. It is in us that their history becomes a future. ~Charles and Ann Morse
My grandmother passed away on Saturday from a myriad of ailments but mostly her health just began spiraling downward after my grandfather passed away two years ago. She was the matriarch of a tightly woven family. Her love was as large as the family it enveloped. Her house was the hub from which all of us would radiate from. I am at a loss for real words that feel like they mean something.
I am not one to dote on deaths or mark the anniversary of someones passing but rather I celebrate their life. By next year my ADD memory will have removed the exact date from my mind and replaced it with all the wonderful snapshots of her life that I got to share with her. It’s not the dead that hurt, it’s the living dealing with the absence that is painful. So right now I am dealing and it will ease as time heals most wounds. I just miss her. I wish I wasn’t so far away from my family. I love them all and it’s a punch in the gut when I am not there to be a part of the process with them.
So Grandma, wherever you are, I’m sure you are with Grandpa. Please tell him I love him and know that we all love and miss you both. One day I ‘ll get to see you again, but not too soon ok?