Learning to Float...
My grandmother passed away six years ago today, and the last thing I ever said to her was "that's a nice tree."
I saw her three weeks before she passed and I had no idea this would be my last time, ...stupid, isn't it? My grandma was 98 1/2 years old! But have you've ever known anyone that you thought would be around forever, even if common sense dictates otherwise?
Well that was my grandma.
My young grandson is wrestling with grief right now, except his grandma (his dad's mom) hasn't died yet, she's been battling breast cancer for several years, but then cancer took a break for a few years. We all forgot about it. Well last year cancer came back...and it's meaner and nastier then ever. She's my age. I wish I had something more comforting to say to my grandson, but I simply don't. No pearls of wisdom, no "it will get better, you'll get over it" because that's not true. My dark Huber sense of humor would advise him to stay away from the subject of tree's...
I guess you can't pick and choose your grief, can you? And grief can be sneaky too...it's weird how it sneaks up when you least expect it, like the Christmas card section at Walgreens when it hits you that you have one less Christmas card to send this year, or the song Amazing Grace at church when it hits you that it was grandmas favorite hymn.
Someone once told me that grieving was a lot like learning to float in a lake. When you first try to lay back on the water you sink...alot...but then, after you hit the bottom a few times you kind of get the hang of it. Once in a while though you get hit by a big wave, and you lose your balance and you sink again, and again...until, you accept that ever so often there's going to be a big wave that maybe you can't handle (like a birthday anniversary or death aniversary), but for the most part, if you just relax, you can float above the water.