Grandma is gone. The nurturing woman who didnt mind a chubby third grader clearing three plates of her Southern cooking; the calming matriarch who soothed with either a simple gospel hum or an incandescent smile; the gardener who told stories as she snapped green beans from backyard vines; the first one who believed enough in a young boy to call him her little preacher man who would grow up to do great things...she is gone. At this moment, there is a war raging between my mind and my heart. My mind takes control and initiates a numbing of every negative emotion. Depending on my surroundings, my face shows either a stoic gaze or a dimpled smile to keep potential breakdowns at bay. In this state of autopilot I had learned from Air Force basic training, I am able to persevere and live on to the best of my ability. However, my heart always manages to find the weakest point no matter how thick or tall my wall had become. In mere seconds, this emotional dam fails and I am lost in a deluge of my own sorrowful tears as I sob and scream uncontrollably. After such an episode, I simply gather myself and continue on as the world continues to turn. I miss her. While I do understand that death is a part of life and that I must live on until my final time is also called...I still miss her.
Posted on: Sat, 29 Nov 2014 07:11:28 +0000
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