take it all back.
Yesterday my family went to visit my Grandma Ora.
She is buried at the cemetary in Essexville.
I have wanted to go there for a long time.
So many occasions I have told myself that I would go.
I am open about so many things in life.
There are so many things that I love to share with people in general.
That is not one of them.
Death, to me, is a private affair.
I've always thought that way.
I can count the number to times that I have cried openly about it.
I was in 8th grade when my grandma passed away. I cried into my Aunt's shoulder, 5 minutes after I had told her that I was totally fine, dripping wet from the shower.
At the funeral, I bit my tongue the whole time... until looked down at my younger cousin, and we just cried together. Quietly, but openly.
About a year ago, I was in Bay City with Eric car shopping and I asked him to drive into the Y parking lot, next to my grandparents old house. I cried then, too. I was sick to my stomach that I never went to say goodbye to the house that held so many memories.
It's a guilty feeling I get when I realize I haven't thought about her in a while. That life goes on without her everyday. I know it's supposed to... I just wish I was able to share more about it.
I can't.
It is just not a public thing to me.
So Saturday, I felt cornered. I stood there with my entire family, aunts and uncles, cousins of all ages... and underneath my sunglasses, I cried. It wasn't a lot. Just enough for her to know that I still cared. So much.
I can still smell her breath in the morning up north when we sat on the deck and she rocked me while drinking her coffee.
I can still feel the scratchy outside chairs that used to sit in the screened porch off their house.
I can still hear her warnings about always not going to far down the driveway, and how the clotheslines were not jungle gyms.
Once in a while, I want to be able to miss her, openly.
Without feeling like I have to keep a straight face and brush it off.
I will go there someday.
I will go with someone.
Someday.
And share my memories.
Someday.
I love you.
And I will continue to do so, long after now.
(no comments).
She is buried at the cemetary in Essexville.
I have wanted to go there for a long time.
So many occasions I have told myself that I would go.
I am open about so many things in life.
There are so many things that I love to share with people in general.
That is not one of them.
Death, to me, is a private affair.
I've always thought that way.
I can count the number to times that I have cried openly about it.
I was in 8th grade when my grandma passed away. I cried into my Aunt's shoulder, 5 minutes after I had told her that I was totally fine, dripping wet from the shower.
At the funeral, I bit my tongue the whole time... until looked down at my younger cousin, and we just cried together. Quietly, but openly.
About a year ago, I was in Bay City with Eric car shopping and I asked him to drive into the Y parking lot, next to my grandparents old house. I cried then, too. I was sick to my stomach that I never went to say goodbye to the house that held so many memories.
It's a guilty feeling I get when I realize I haven't thought about her in a while. That life goes on without her everyday. I know it's supposed to... I just wish I was able to share more about it.
I can't.
It is just not a public thing to me.
So Saturday, I felt cornered. I stood there with my entire family, aunts and uncles, cousins of all ages... and underneath my sunglasses, I cried. It wasn't a lot. Just enough for her to know that I still cared. So much.
I can still smell her breath in the morning up north when we sat on the deck and she rocked me while drinking her coffee.
I can still feel the scratchy outside chairs that used to sit in the screened porch off their house.
I can still hear her warnings about always not going to far down the driveway, and how the clotheslines were not jungle gyms.
Once in a while, I want to be able to miss her, openly.
Without feeling like I have to keep a straight face and brush it off.
I will go there someday.
I will go with someone.
Someday.
And share my memories.
Someday.
I love you.
And I will continue to do so, long after now.
(no comments).