I’ve been absent for the past few weeks as finding the motivation, or even the inspiration, to write a blog post has been near impossible. My Grandma passed away two weeks ago and I’m still no closer to feeling back to normal. I’ve been so lucky as I’m twenty and this is the first death close to me that I’ve had to deal with. My Dad’s parents died when I was much younger, but I grew up seeing my Mum’s parents at least every week.

It’s strange, this grief. I guess I expected just to feel sad for a few weeks and then the sadness would just become less and less, but it’s nothing like that. It’s more like an emptiness, a hollow spot in your chest and your bones that sometimes you forget about for a few moments but then you feel it again. Grief is more like a balloon inside of you, inflating and deflating constantly but contorting into different shapes. One moment you feel numb, the next you feel desperately sad, and then you’re angry, then you’re back to feeling empty.

The stages of grief aren’t stages at all, really. They don’t fall on a straight line. You don’t pass one to get the next. They’re on overlapping circles, crossing over each other and continuous with no end in sight.

The funeral was a couple of days ago, and although I felt strong at the beginning and like I could handle it all, the feeling didn’t last for long. And there’s still this numbness that I can’t get used to. Being at work is good and bad – keeping busy is wonderful, as you forget that the grief is still there, but you can be in the middle of a conversation with a customer and it all comes back. I had someone say ‘sunshine’ to me yesterday, and all I could hear was my Grandma calling me ‘Sunshine girl’. I also saw some customers that looked slightly like my Grandma, and again it all comes back in waves.

But not everyone understands – I certainly didn’t. You hear the news and feel sorry for your friend’s loss, but after a few weeks it’s old news. Already at work it feels like I should be getting over it now, like it’s just an obstacle I have to get past instead of something that I’ve picked up and can’t just get rid of.

So I’m not moving on, but just carrying on with this new weight/absence/whatever-the-hell-you-call-it with me. It’s a part of life that I never really thought too much about, or at least didn’t want to think about it, but it’s something that you have to shoulder. For now, it’s the memories that help me get through the day, the times of smiles and laughter and love. It’s trying to fill that emptiness with a bit of life.


7 thoughts on “Grief

  1. I’m sorry for the loss of your Grandma. Having lost loved ones myself, I know there are no words that help “make it better.” You describe grief very eloquently. The emptiness, the balloon, the distractions then remembering. It hurts. If it’s any consolation, the one thing that my own loss and grief has taught me is that life is fragile and precious and short. This has helped me prioritize what has true meaning in my life. The grief will ease but never truly go away. And neither will your love for your Grandma or hers for you. Sending you happy, positive energy from Seattle, Washington.

  2. Beautiful and thought provoking. I’m very sure Grandma WAS and STILL is very proud of you. She will always be with you – x

  3. Pingback: Grief (Dear Eleanor) – Wanderlust My Thoughts

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