six months ago today my grandmother, my oldest friend, passed away. every day since then i have missed her desperately. every day has been another day when i cannot talk to her, when she won't call, when i can't tell her that the hummingbirds are still here in October!, when i can't say thank you, when i can't laugh with her, when i can't ask her advice, when i can't call her to cry and she will say it will be okay, when i can't hear her voice or smell her or hug her...
this is my first experience with deep grief, deep sadness. this year has been the year when i began to truly understand. i lost my dear golden traveler in february, my grandmother in april, and a friend in june. a year of cracking open. a year of understanding that platitudes are never really helpful, they just make the other person feel better. and just when you think the grief has become softer, something will whisper across your heart and it will still seem unbelievable. i do the best i can. all i can do.
at my grandmother's funeral, i quoted Brian Andreas:
Landscape of the Heart
It is still so new & all we see is the empty space, but that is not how it is in the landscape of the heart. There, there is no empty space & she still laughs & grapples with ideas & plans & nods wisely with each of us in turn. We are proud to have known her. We are proud to have called her friend.
(photo: me and grandma circa 1978)