By Snarky_Momma on April 29, 2014
Being a ruthless, snarky bitch I often have a hard time expressing appreciation, or really, anything nice. Being an introvert, when I do feel the need to express these things I find it much easier to do so through the written word rather than verbally.
Our friends and family have been amazing during this time. All the kind words, all the memories of Yiya that have been shared, and all of the message of love that have been sent our way have meant more than anyone will know. To know that she touched not only our lives, but the lives of so many others brings me joy through my sadness. Every message I received telling me how much someone enjoyed knowing my Yiya made me smile through my tears, and I am so grateful for it.
We are incredibly lucky to be surrounded by people who are there for us in these hard times. The offers of help and support have been numerous, sincere and amazing. And I am so very grateful for every one that we took advantage of, and those we didn't as well.
To say that the last few days have been hard would be an understatement. They have been surreal. It's just so weird to think that my Yiya is gone. That I won't walk into my parents' house and see her sitting at the kitchen table, yelling out My Guys' names as they sprint into the house. That I won't get to sit and chat with her while My Guys enjoy their time with Busia and Papou. I won't bring another fish sandwich from McDonald's, or another hotdog from Portillo's (everything but peppers, small fry). I won't help her out of my dad's car, or get another card with almost every phrase underlined and quotation marks used obsessively and unnecessarily. When we go out to dinner, I won't read her the items off the menu I think she'd like. I won't help her to the bathroom before we leave. I won't make cupcakes, or brownies or any other kind of sweet "just because"and bring them to her because she had a sweet tooth like you wouldn't believe. I won't fix her hearing aids for her to make them stop making that weird spaceship noise they'd make if they weren't in properly.
I won't hold her hand. I won't give her another hug. I won't see her again. It doesn't feel real.
I imagine the coming days, weeks, and months will have their own new kind of difficulties and while I don't look forward to that, I do take solace in knowing that not only I, but my entire family, has a wonderful network of support surrounding us that is there to help us through it.
So thank you.