Dealing with grief.

In all of my thirty-two years on this planet, I've been extremely lucky in that I've not had to deal with the grieving process as much as the next person. My first experience with it was with my great-grandmother on my dad's side, who passed away in 2005 at the age of 96. I had never been to a funeral for someone that close to me before, and it was the hardest thing I had ever dealt with up to that point. It took me a long time to realize that she was gone, and I had an incredibly difficult time after her funeral trying to process what had happened.

So when my great-grandmother on my mom's side passed away Monday at the age of 95, I thought that I would be able to handle it for the most part. But I was wrong on so many levels. This is a form of grief that I have never known, and I'm stumbling through it blindly. I have periods where I'm fine (and by fine I mean not crying but in an incredibly thick fog of complete unawareness) and periods where I can't stop crying and my whole body shakes with sobs. Nothing seems to matter to me anymore, and everything takes so much effort and energy. Yesterday was a beautifully sunny day, and all I could think about was that my great-grandmother was never going to see another day like this again. She would never see the roses that my great-grandfather planted in the front yard. She would never be here to celebrate holidays or birthdays with us. There is a tremendous gaping hole that she has left behind, and even though she lived longer than most people do and I should be thankful for that, I'm still having a terrible time dealing with the fact that she is gone.

But there are also lots of wonderful memories that are being passed around now at my grandparent's house. How my great-grandmother, when they were living in Europe, caught a man who was trying to steal sheep from their farm and threw him in the barn, latched the door with a 2x4 and stood outside with a pitchfork telling him that if he came out, she would kill him. My memories of her are spending the days at their house with their dog Hundi (Lady), who I used to do "peace be with you" with when I shook her paw. I remember the walks we used to take to Raley's on summer mornings. I remember her babysitting us and how kind and gentle she was. And I'll always be so lucky that I had two sets of great-grandparents growing up, and how most people don't even get the chance to meet their great-grandparents. I am thankful for all of this and more.

I will miss her more than anything, but I am thankful for the time I was given with her and will treasure it always. She was a tough and incredibly strong woman, and I hope that I can find it in myself to be as strong as she was through this difficult time.

I'll miss you, Cross-the-Street Oma. I love you more than anything.