“Every morning, I wake up and forget just for a second that it happened. But once my eyes open, it buries me like a landslide of sharp, sad rocks. Once my eyes open, I’m heavy, like there’s to(o) much gravity on my heart.” – Sarah Ockler
I honestly didn’t know whether I wanted to write and publish this post. I have never posted anything so personal, so publicly. Especially on this blog where almost everything is positive and light. But I don’t know how to cope with grief and loss, and I can’t express my feelings and thoughts verbally without bursting into tears and struggling to swallow past that lump in my throat. I was always much better at writing.
It’s okay to skip this post. I don’t mind. I know this isn’t my usual, and this post is heavy with emotions. I just needed a place to speak.
Friday morning began like any other morning. I was sitting at Starbucks writing an email request to one of my offices asking for the second Monday of July off so that I could spend more time with family. My grandma’s birthday is in July, and every year it’s a big event where uncles, aunts, and cousins fly in from LA, New Orleans, and sometimes even Hong Kong for her birthday dinner. We always dress up in cocktail attire for her birthday. It’s the family event of the year. And I always want extra time off to hang out with family I haven’t seen in awhile.
This year was going to be huge. Almost the entire family planned to attend. Plane tickets were just purchased. With five children and their spouses, nineteen grandchildren plus spouses of those married, and eight great grandchildren, “almost” is a big number. My grandma’s great grandchildren were all going to be in one place for the first time. Since our grandma hasn’t met any of them yet, it was definitely going to be exciting, rowdy, and fun.
Late Friday afternoon as I was finishing up writing notes for work, I checked my phone and saw group text messages from my cousin about an hour before. My sisters and my two cousins from San Jose grew up together. You’ve seen photos of the five of us together in the past. We’re so close, like sisters, so we always talk through group chat.
“I need you all to call me!”
“Everyone call me!”
“Drea call me when you get home”
I quickly texted back, worried, wanting to know if it was Grandma. She had been sick the last two days so when I saw those messages, it was the first thing I thought of. Is it Grandma?
I received no response.
I waited until I was completely done with all my notes and left work to call my sisters and cousins to find out what was going on, but no one answered their phones or texted me back. And I had a sinking feeling. I started to suspect that something was terribly wrong, that whatever it was, they didn’t want to tell me until I was home.
When I reached the front of our house, I saw my dad’s car out front. He was supposed to be at work! He wasn’t supposed to be home for another few hours! And I knew. I didn’t need anyone to tell me… I knew.
I am so grateful that my grandma passed away quickly and peacefully. It was her one wish as she grew older. Her worst fear was being a burden to her family.
But as selfish as it is, I wish that she held on a little longer. That way we were better prepared, that way we had a chance to say goodbye.
Just a few days ago, I had wished that I could turn back time so that I could be on vacation again. Today, I wish I could turn back time because I would get to see my grandma again. A week ago, I was sharing photos of my vacation with her, laughing, joking, and listening to her tell stories about her cruise trip many years ago.
I didn’t think it was the last time I’d see her.
This entire weekend felt surreal. I kept checking my phone to see if it were all real, or if it’s just a terrible nightmare I’d wake up from. Walking through her house was difficult. My grandma was always full of life. She was loud with no sense of an indoor voice. Her idea of a whisper is my idea of speaking normally. You will always know that she’s home and when she’s awake.
It’s so quiet now. I walk into her room to pick out her favorite clothes for the upcoming funeral and burst into tears.
I look at the photo books I’ve made of her birthdays for the past seven years and know that there’s not going to an 8th book. Grandma loved to show off her family so I made those photo books for her. I thought it was easier for her to pull these small books off the shelf than having to pull out stashes of photos each time.
I’m devastated that she couldn’t hold on one more day so that she could see, or view through video, her newest great grandson, who was born less than 24 hours after she passed away.
Or that she couldn’t celebrate my 30th birthday with me in two weeks. Instead, we will be planning her funeral for the day after.
Or that she couldn’t see my cousin graduate from pharmacy school in May.
Or that she will miss her birthday this year when so many of us were planning to attend. She loved when we have huge family gatherings, and this was going to be the biggest. Just imagine all of us in one house!
Or that she will miss the same cousin who is graduating getting married at the end of the year.
2017 was supposed to be the best year ever, filled with so many milestones and life events. And now, I’m at a loss.
My sisters, cousins, and I talked about having a mini pizza party in honor of Grandma. Grandma was obsessed with pizzas. She was always craving it. To the point whereI created a Pizza Hut account with her saved order. An account that I only use when she tells me she craves pizza. Maybe that’s what we’ll do for her funeral. Have a huge pizza party afterwards.
It’s just so hard these past few days. The quiet is unbearable. I just always think that I’ll see her rolling her cart down the hallway or hear her voice on the phone. I miss hearing her admonish me for buying her clothes or treating her out to eat and not letting her pay me back.
As silly as it sounds, I thought she would live forever. That she would be there when I got married, when I have kids.
She was taken away so unexpectedly, and I miss her like crazy. This past weekend, we acted like she was still around. We set the table for dinner with a bowl of rice and chopsticks where she used to sit and called her to eat, just like we always did.
This new normalcy is so hard…
Hold your loved ones close. Enjoy and savor every moment.
Miss you, Grandma. <3
inspirationaldetails says
I’m so sorry about the loss of your Grandma! Your memories of her will last forever.
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you so much.
bedlamanddaisies says
I’m so sorry for you loss.
Treasure the wonderful memories that you have. I’m sure they will help you as you navigate through this time.
Sending love and light your way. xo
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you so much
mustardseedcook says
I think it’s brave to write so personally when it is not the subject of your usual blog but it is always powerful. I hope writing it down helped you too. I usually write about food on http://www.mustardseedcooking.co.uk/blog but have twice written about grief in the last couple of years and although it was difficult they were the most commented on posts. God bless. Katherine, Mustard Seed Cooking and ..with love and a prayer..
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you so much, Katherine! It means so much to me. I feel the same way <3
almeidadepaulo says
I am so sorry for your loss and send condolences to you and your family.
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you.
Sue (Mac's Girl) says
I’m so sorry to hear of your sad loss. Beautiful pictures and wonderful memories of your Grandma
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you, Sue.
Blonde On The Move says
I hope that writing proved to be as cathartic as you hoped. I lost my grandmother a year ago and I felt better after writing her eulogy, which I then posted. There is no easy way through grief sadly. No ten step programme. Just be honest about what you are feeling with yourself and others, and you can grieve and heal together. Sending love and light xx
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you so much, Sharon. I’m so sorry you had to go through the lost of your grandmother too.
Blonde On The Move says
Thank you. The difference is – and the reason I can’t advise – my Grandmother was 86 and had been in poor health. She actively wanted to die so when she did, we knew she was at peace, with Granddad again and with her God. That would make her happier than anything on earth. I hope you can find a way to see it as a blessing too. It’s hard, and you feel guilty, but it really helps. xx
bruce says
“Each night, as dusk falls and the moon rises, we see swallows returning to their nests”.
I am very sorry for your loss and send you, your family and grandmother a prayer.
There is often nothing that might relieve the feelings other than living them in full. “A tree hemmed in by the forest is forced to marshal it’s strength to grow towards the light. It must truly bring forth its inner strength to spread its branches. And If it becomes grand, it is in part because of its suffering”. I can imagine your grandmother would understand and wish this outcome for you all. May you and your family find strength and peace.
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you so much, Bruce.
kathryningrid says
My dear Andrea, my heart aches for you. I’m much older than you are, so my grandparents are all long gone, but I was close to each of them in a multitude of ways when I was fortunate to still have them around; I think I know pretty well how you feel. I wish I could just give you a big, long hug (if you’re not an anti-hugger, of course!).
You will never cease to miss your grandma and wish you had her with you, but you will find your peace. I can tell what a loving, fun, involved, and truly *present* person she was in your life—in your whole family’s life.
I think it might be lovely if all of you could still gather for her birthday this summer, because it will give the family who loved her so a chance to celebrate her together and kind of ‘invite her back’ in the happiest of ways, remembering, sharing funny stories and sweetly recalled incidents, and finding the new ways for all of you to carry her spirit forward with you. There would undoubtedly be a bit of cathartic crying, but I suspect that everyone would also delight in basking in the memory of Grandma, all while making new happy memories together.
I’m grateful to have known my wonderful grandparents, and glad you shared yours with us now. May you find comfort, healing, hope, and peace in keeping your grandma alive forever in your heart and sharing the best of who she was with others.
xo,
Kathryn
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you so much, Kathryn. *hug* She was definitely very present in our lives so it feels empty without her. I think it’s a great idea to try to come together this summer to celebrate her birthday. It might not be as big as we had originally planned, but I think a birthday dinner would be amazing. Thank you so much for the suggestion. <3
kathryningrid says
(((HUGS))) 🙂
Jackie says
I’m so sorry for your loss. My condolences to you and your family. You will be in my thoughts. xo
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you, Jackie.
snowgood says
Well done for finding the time to make 7 photo albums that she could enjoy. You’ve invested your time, love and energy wisely. I like the idea of a Celebratory Pizza party to remember your Grandma. Bless You. Stephen
Andrea| Cooking with a Wallflower says
Thank you.