when the reality of a death hits you…

… it hits you like a ton a bricks.

I will apologize in advanced guys, this post is going to be a bit morbid and sad. On Tuesday, May 17th, we lost my spit-fire of a grandmother. The reality of her death hadn’t really sunk in until today, and writing about it was really the only therapeutic way I could think to work through my thoughts and feelings. I’m not even sure if I’ll post this one to the public, but if you’re reading this, I guess it means that I have.

Learning about the death of a close family member is something that words cannot fully describe. My mom was working on dinner, and I was in my room working on something, I can’t even remember what anymore. My dad went over to my grandma’s house just a few feet away from our own to say his daily hello. I heard the door open moments later, and I heard the words that I was least expecting to hear.. ‘I think she’s passed away’. And then the world became frozen in time. Ambulance lights flooded my brain as they came to pronounce that she had passed. My hands shook from the suddenness of it all. My heart sunk as the realization that my dad will now be grieving the loss of the woman who raised him. As I sit here trying to write the words down, I simply can’t. I can visualize most of the events from the evening, but no words will be able to describe the stark reality of what has happened. A soul has left this earth. Although a terribly stubborn, tell-it-how-it-is, sassy soul has left us behind on earth, she has victoriously been reunited with those who have preceded her in death whom she missed dearly. I hadn’t cried over her death until today, when we met with the pastor who will be speaking at her service tomorrow. As we prayed, he talked about how wonderful it is where she is now, and he prayed that our broken hearts be healed as we grieve the fact that no one will ever fill her shoes and be the person that she was. It was those words that struck my heart in a way that made all of this so real. All of the hours spent looking at childhood photos, the evenings since her passing that we shared stories about her, the solemn look on my dads face as the waves of emotions hit him, seeing his sisters cry in grief. It all came forward and I couldn’t help but cry. I cry over the fact that there will never be that soul of my grandma on this earth again. But I hear her as I speak. I say things and I think ‘Oh, there’s grandma’. Like they always say, they may not be here on earth, but they are always here in our hearts.

Rest easy, grandma.

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