Not a Day Goes By…
For a little over a month now, I’ve struggled with the reality that you’ve gone. There have been many times where I’ve wanted to forget and even a few that I did picking the phone to call before catching myself.
So often I’ve longed to hear that familiar “Hey hello” on the other end. I’ve needed the advice that only you can give about why my tomato plant isn’t doing as well as it should, how to make one of your recipes, or why I shouldn’t care about what other people think.
I’ve wanted the comfort that only you can give me knowing that I could tell you my deepest darkest secret without ever having to worry about you telling someone else or have to worry about you thinking less of me.
I’ve missed the interesting way you looked at the world and how you freely shared your perspectives. I’ve missed your “tell-it-like-it-is” nature saying not always what I wanted to hear, but what I needed to hear. (99 out of 100 times you were right too.)
I’ve missed being able to call you when I’m feeling upset and without even having to say anything, you sensed that I felt sad following with, “What’s a matter honey girl?” Then through my inaudible sobs you listened although I could also sense that while I was crying, you were too. You would wait until I finished everything I had to say and then in your comforting tone would say, “Aww, don’t be sad sweetheart. Please don’t cry.”
I’ve needed the laughs we used to share through our many adventures, chats and the stories you would tell. I also miss the good times we would share curled up on the couch with the cats watching Dr. Phil while playing the role of Dr. Phil during the commercial breaks saying what we thought the guests needed to do.
I’ve missed so much, actually, too much to write.
I’ve tried to put my finger on this process they call grief, but I must tell you the only thing I’ve mastered is that every day is more unpredictable than the last. I’ve asked questions. I’ve heard advice from others on how this will somehow make sense someday or get better with time. I’ve read things that you need to do and things that you need not do. I’ve went to church, I’ve prayed, I’ve journaled, I’ve exercised, I’ve shared, I’ve done just about everything that I know how to do.
It still hurts. I still get upset. I continue to grieve.
I’ve learned to function day-by-day because I know that you wouldn’t want me to do this any other way. However, there are some days like today where the grief fills my body. You would have been 90 years old today Gram. There’s not a day that goes by where you don’t cross my mind, not a day goes by. I miss you terribly and love you dearly. Happy first birthday in heaven. Until we meet again…