Monday, October 25, 2010
without her in this world
intellectually, i know she's gone, this woman who filled my life with roses and sugar, with adventure and warmth. but my heart has not heard the news, doesn't want to hear that news and so remains raw, bitingly raw, with unshed tears.
as she had advised in life~ her secret to aging gracefully and well, "keep moving"~ i stay in motion. amid the laundry and groceries, i stop at her grave to tidy the roses and ribbon-wishes of her family and i cover the fresh dirt with petals. i move on to her now-former home, newly sold, yet still in transition, to gather a few last things i can't bear to be donated. i wander room to room, hoping the familiar smells of her home will bring me, finally, to tears.
so, i keep moving.
of course, i'm lucky. of course, i'm grateful. a grandmother until one's mid-40's is rare. and this grandmother was a force to be reckoned with. but there is emptiness, as all death brings. there is not knowing what to do next, as all death brings. there is a pressing evaluation of one's own life, as all death brings.
i will keep moving until the moment, the possibly public and likely inconvenient moment, when my heart suddenly knows she is gone. beyond the tears, the river of tears, i hope to know what to do next without her in this world.