In 2004, my world shattered when I received the news that my grandmother had passed away. I dropped the phone and in that moment, I felt a profound emptiness that I had never known before. The tears just flooded my face. I had always been the girl who found light in the darkest of times, but her death plunged me into a darkness I couldn’t escape. I didn’t want to eat nor live. I felt comfort in isolation, sleeping my entire days away.
My grandmother was my constant source of joy and comfort. She had an uncanny ability to lift my spirits, even when life threw its worst at me. With her gone, I felt like a ship lost at sea, adrift and without direction. The pain of her absence was suffocating, a weight on my chest that made it hard to breathe. I had never experienced such a deep sense of loss and it left me feeling helpless and utterly alone. She was my grandmother and we were close.
Her death was preventable and that knowledge gnawed at me like a relentless ache. An inexperienced surgeon left the gauze inside of her. She developed flesh eating bacteria. She died, as a result. I often find myself replaying that day in my mind, wishing I could go back and change the outcome. The grief is a constant companion, one that I can’t shake off no matter how hard I try. Three years later, I still have moments where the tears come unbidden and I’m reminded of the gaping hole she left behind.
I miss her every single day. I miss her laughter, her warmth, and the way she made everything feel ok. She smoked cigarettes, which I did not like (and she knew it too) but I loved her so I didn’t care. To be honest, every single milestone I achieve feels bittersweet, a reminder that she’s not here to share in my joy. I wonder if I will ever feel whole again or if this emptiness will be my new normal.
I’m not 100% ok and I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m learning to navigate life and live with this heavy heart, but it’s a struggle. I often feel like I’m walking through life in a fog, unable to fully engage with the world around me. Grief has a way of isolating you, even in a crowd.
I know I will carry this pain with me for the rest of my life. I will always miss my grandmother and the thought of her absence is a wound that never fully heals. I won’t get to experience things with her because she’s gone. But I’m trying to live my life, to honor her memory in whatever way I can. I hope that, in time, the sharp edges of my grief will soften, but for now, I’m just trying to find my way through the sadness that lingers still til this day.
Comments