Grief

Growing up my mother and I would visit my Grandpa, who years later I didn’t realize was actually my Great-Grandfather. I hadn’t known any other grandfather besides him. I remember those visits so vividly because he had an elliptical bike in his room and I always wanted to ride it. I would spent time coloring in multiple different coloring books in his living to while he and my mother talked in the kitchen, I would always beg him to let me take them home plus the crayons because he had colors I only ever used at his house. At the end of his visit he and I would eat an ice cream cone together before my mother and I went on our way.

I don’t remember crying at his funeral.

It wasn’t until years later that I cried because it hit me that he was gone and we wouldn’t get to have anymore experiences together. Lately, I’ve been coloring a lot and I think of him every time.

I remember hearing somewhere that grief is one of the emotions that we’ll all experience as humans and yet it’s the least talked about. People don’t often share in their grief. It’s haunting. Not only do I grieve my passed away loved ones but my past self, who had to go through so much and set the foundation for the life I live now and past relationships with people that I know I had to cut out of my life (and that knowledge doesn’t make it hurt any less). Some days I’m perfectly fine and I don’t think of any of that at all but there are those little moments where I’ll hear a song, smell a certain fragrance or eat an ice cream cone and all those feelings flood right back in.

Life would be better if we shared more stories of the people we love, without abandon and celebrate their life.