I thought I’d hear from her more.
I just always assumed she’d speak to me through dreams or little whispers here and there, but it hasn’t been like that at all.
I’ve only had one recent dream of her. In it she said something that didn’t make sense that I can’t even recall. It was something about pennies. Something so random that I’ve given up trying to remember exactly what it was or what it meant.
The warm soft touch of her hand was so real that it woke me and just like that (I snap my fingers) the moment I’d been waiting for was gone.
I tried to go back to sleep, but the more effort I put in the more awake I became. No matter how hard I tried to slip away I was awake grieving her again.
It’s been one year since my grandmother passed away. Her death hit me hard. Much harder than I anticipated. Surrounding events and family drama made it very difficult to grieve her death in peace.
It’s still hard.
I feel so silly still crying at the drop of hat when her memory comes to mind. Childish almost, but I can’t help it.
“She’s finally with Jesus now.”, I tell myself. Finally free of pain and, I would imagine, extreme boredom from sitting in a nursing home for three years, but it doesn’t make me miss her any less.
I still selfishly wish I could pull her from the feet of Jesus and hug her one more time. Just once.
Everything’s different after you lose someone you love.
Life seems to take on a before and after with only the day they passed separating the two segments on your timeline.
I’ve passed a thousand green banana bunches since she passed away. Each time I have to remind myself she’s not down the road to accept my delivery.
I always picked them up for her whenever I found some. Just a little something that let her know I was thinking about her.
It seems like green bananas are much easier to come by now that she doesn’t request them.
I always thought it was funny that she insisted they be green. Bitter almost, but then she’d let them sit for days before eating them. They were always bruised by the time she got to them, so why did they need to be green to begin with?
One of the many questions I never asked her.
Growing up we always joked about grandma. She had a bad reputation for going on and on (and on and on) about herself.
You never wanted to ask her how she was doing unless you were fully prepared to get the most recent (and very detailed and lengthy) run down of her medical care, medication list, recent side effects, diet, and updates on each nurse she’d had in the past week.
It was exhausting sometimes listening to her go on about her cough, or diabetes, or breakfast, or swollen arm, but I’d give anything to hear her update today.
It’s funny. For someone who had a bad rep for talking about themselves all the time, she never really talked about herself at all.
Sure she rambled about the daily nonsense, but she never really shared anything substantial.
I never asked her.
She never talked about her parents or childhood memories.
She never talked about her friends of past and present.
She never talked about her life, her hopes, her dreams.
She just always talked about the same things. My whole life. Now that she’s gone, I wonder what more she would have said had I just asked.
What was her favorite novel?
Most embarrassing moment?
I’ve played out this interview that will never happen in my mind a thousand times.
Remember when she read the entire Twilight series in a few days? What a trip! She was 86 then. She was so hooked she even got the fifth book. The short one about the younger vampire. She wasn’t a fan of that one.
“Scary!”, she said of the novella.
I wish I had more recipes written in her hand.
I wish I had more of her belongings.
I wish I had more time.
You might like these too...
Latest posts by Adrienne (see all)
- 4 Simple Things That Are Helping Our Homeschool - March 22, 2015
- #BrainChase Summer Learning Challenge Discount Code and Giveaway! - March 18, 2015
- The Blogging Bare Essentials, Some More Random, and a Giveaway! - March 16, 2015
- 10 Random Facts About Me - February 23, 2015
- How to Make Starfruit Starfish Stamps - February 3, 2015