This is a hard way to start the week. Whether for reasons of personal boundaries or just wanting to keep an uplifting space, I don’t often talk about difficult things. But my heart has been so heavy in the past week that I feel nudged to share.
Last Sunday afternoon we received a call from E’s parents that their sweet Nana had passed in her sleep. Even at 90 years old she was in perfect health and it felt totally out of left field. Later that evening, E whispered to me, “I wish I could just go back and restart this day and never have that happen.” I knew exactly what he meant. The depth of that feeling ranges from sadness to anger to complete lack of control. She was the last living grandparent in either of our families. So we’ve known this overwhelming grief before. Without warning, it comes in a giant wave. And it’s a wave you can’t jump over–you just have to go straight through every salty tear. It’s always a battle to rid those thoughts of regret: why didn’t I visit them that time I meant to? Why didn’t I call them just once more? What was the last thing I said to them?
We were both fortunate enough to have grandparents we loved and who cherished us. I don’t take that for granted one bit. And in the case of any strong relationship, you never stop missing the person. Maybe it fades over the years in the sense that you don’t constantly dwell on their absence. But that core pang of loss stays put. As we trudge through this reality of life + death, it’s a daily reminder to think of their freedom in eternity. Selfishly, we’d rather they stayed. But for now it’s a focus on hope for the future and family for the present.
Thank you for letting me share my heart.
I would love to hear from you of any ways you cope with loss.