Still Not Finished

The literature says that grief is a process.  Whomever came up with that concept is a pure genius!  Of course, I'm being sarcastic but I am serious also. (is that oxymoronic?)  There are moments when things get quiet and I just begin to think of being with my grandmother during her last moments.  Although it was a horrific experience for me, I wouldn't have it any other way.  I didn't want her to die alone and I wanted to be there when her spirit bid us farewell.  During that last night with her, I hardly slept because I just watched her as she breathed very hard and her eyes stayed open with no glimmer.  It was just dullness.  It was the worst thing that I could ever imagine, not seeing my grandmother's sparkle.  Even when she was sick, we knew she was still inside of that body.  She had her way of letting us know that she was still there and that she could hear and understand what we were saying, even if she couldn't communicate about it.

My mind constantly goes back to those hours where she simply existed inside of her body and was determined not to let go.  Then there's a fast-forward to seeing her dressed in white in her final resting place.  Although my vision is of a greyish looking corpse, my heart knew "she" wasn't there.  It was the first time that I actually touched a lifeless body since my anatomy class in college.  This was different because it was someone I had known all of my life.  It wasn't someone with an unknown identity that had donated themselves to science.  I couldn't help but touch her hands and face.  I ran my fingers through her hair - after all she had been through in life...only wisps of silver outlined her face.  I wanted to pick her body up and squeeze it tight.  I knew that Justen - the cutest young mortician I know, would have thought I was crazy messing with his "work".  What would have been the point really? 

What I don't think people really understand about grief is that it doesn't happen at once AND it doesn't happen immediately.  When I was home preparing for the funeral, my mind was on one thing...making sure my grandmother was buried with dignity.  If I could have, I would have had a horse drawn carriage with a driver to take her from the church to the grave site.  To me, she deserved that type of send-off.  She was a queen by every definition of the word.  I never would have thought it, but her homegoing was Blessed in every way.  Yes, there were tears of sadness, but mostly tears of joy.  For once, I didn't think if the person in the casket was actually going to Heaven.  I have no doubts that she's there with her loved ones who have gone before her.  How could I be so selfish to want to keep her here, living in a nursing home and depending on someone for all of her care?  Although it's silly, I thought she'd live forever...well at least for a while longer.

When things get quiet and still, after all of the calls stopped and the cards stopped coming in the mail; the reality that she's gone really hit me.  I wrote in a previous post about how I cried one night...I cry a couple nights a week.  It hurts really badly to know that the only person that I thought understood me in the world is gone.  It hurts to know that my best friend and confidant is no longer living.  Those of us that believe in the spiritual after-life get a little comfort knowing that the person we love is only within ear shot.  But I can't fool myself, it's hard talking into the air when I need advice or just want to talk.  I know for sure that if I heard her voice in response, I would seriously think I'm crazy and yes, it would scare me to death.  Deep inside, sometimes I wish she would say something so I know she's still here with me.  I'd give anything to hear her laugh, play the piano, or sing one of her favorite gospel songs. 

If there is one thing that I've learned, it's to cherish every moment as memories are made.  I have beautiful memories to share with my friends and family until my life is over.  I just ask that you forgive me on those days when I can't help but remember and I tell you a story of my grandmother that I've told you 6 times before.  Forgive me when I don't want to talk and I'm feeling down and depressed.  Forgive me when I've been crying or if I just burst in tears from hearing a familiar song or saying that takes me to a moment with Mom-Mom.  Forgive me when I'm angry and in denial about the entire thing.  I could wake up one day as if all of this was a dream...I just ask forgiveness because I'm still not finished and No...I don't know when I'll be done.

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