One year ago, as the morning started sunny and beautiful, capping the weekend of a family celebration, we received the news; you were no longer a part of our world.
We gathered in the room with you. You seemed so peaceful. Your body, though unmoving, curled comfortably in sleep, your hand under your chin, as if in the happiest of dreams. I remember kneeling at your side, my face pressed to yours, begging you to open your eyes. Please, please, open your eyes.
It was unimaginable that you could have moved on to a place beyond our sight and touch. Even now, it’s just as inconceivable that an entire year has passed without you in our lives.
I have been comforted by the fact that you left peacefully, just as you had asked God for. And I also take solace that despite not having the chance to hold your first great-grandchild, there were no umbrages left in your wake — no arguments or bad feelings, no should-haves, wish-I-would-haves, remaining between us. I’m certain you knew I loved you as I knew you loved me.
You’ve left a hole in the fabric of our family, and yet, there are times I feel you with me, quietly observing, wrapping your arms around my grandson as I hold him. I can see your smile, hear your voice in my mind. The large pinwheel I put in my garden in memory of you often spins when I speak to you. Thank you for communicating, for reminding me that even though you aren’t here in physical form, you are with us. Please keep doing that.
Today, on the one-year mark of your passing, I continue to grieve—heavy moments where I lose my breath and weep as if I’ve lost you anew.
"Grief is love with nowhere to go." - As someone aptly put it.
I will miss you for the rest of my life.
💔
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, as I cry ugly tears 💕
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