Last Sunday, I had an overwhelming urge to call my Gramma. I got off my normal Skype call with my dad and picked my cell phone up. Gram picked up pretty quick and conversation moved on like normal for a few minutes.
Then she told me that she was grateful I called because she was having a really hard day.
When I asked her what happened, she told me that she had tried to go to church for the first time since Grampa passed but that it didn’t go well… because it was the 9 month mark of his passing.
It was incredibly hard to listen to her break down on the other side of the phone and not be able to do anything. I couldn’t even comfort her verbally because I was crying as well.
Sometimes his passing feels like it was just last week. The grief will come and drown me all over again. Other times, it feels like it was ages ago and I can tell I’m moving forward – but then I remember and feel guilty. What right do I have to be happy when I know that my Gramma is still hurting so much?
I know it isn’t fair on myself to think this way, but I can’t help it. Gramma and Grampa have been together since Gramma was 14 years old. She has never even known anything else. This is the first time that she is even living alone.
I wish I could be there for her.
I’m 83 days away from boarding that plane. I have 66 days left until I quit this horrible job. (That’s 45 work days plus weekends and holidays).
I am super excited to see my family, especially Gramma. She and I have a lot in common. When we are on the phone, we can talk about our hobbies forever. I know that visiting her will be good for both of us.
I know this is a short post, but it’s just something I had to get off my chest.
I miss you, Grampa. More than I ever thought was possible. I hope you’re looking over us and helping life move along smoothly.