Premature Grief

Grief is an obvious result when loss happens.
I have been working on this post for about a month now.  It has been really hard to write and verbalize.

I will always remember her as one of my most favorite people in the world.
I remember thinking of her as the most beautiful person I had ever seen.  I still do, in fact.  She was what I wanted to be when I was her age.
I remember spending a lot of time doing things to please her.
I remember picking her flowers and making little gifts to give her and to get to spend more time with her.
I remember telling her things that I did not feel safe telling my own mother or parents.
I remember feeling safe confiding in her.
I remember one phone call where hearing her voice made me cry.  She asked me what was the matter, and why I was crying, and I answered (honestly) that I loved her and missed her and was looking forward to seeing her soon.
I remember laughing about funny things.
I remember loving to hug her, and how welcome it felt to stop by their house.
I remember crying as we shared problems, as she gave me advice that I still believe and live by today.
I remember her being the only one who would stand up to my father and point an accusing finger in his face.

She did a lot to create and maintain a relationship with me and our family and my sister.  I was always a little jealous that they were closer (or seemed closer) than I felt to her.
She was honest to a fault and always so sure of herself.
She felt deeply, but knew when to keep her mouth shut, and always had wise and far-seeing counsel when I needed it.

I loved her more than most people in my life, and I didnt know very many.

I also remember her eyebrows running together in a hard line as she surveyed me with disappointment and disapproval.
I remember sending her Martina McBride's "This One's For the Girls" because it made me think lovingly of her, and her cold response.
I remember crying when I read the hurtful things she said to me and my sister.
I remember feeling the betrayal and pain that consumed me.
 I remember hearing her voice in my head as her last email cut me, basically invalidating my thoughts, feelings, and emotions, and pushed me away.
I remember hearing from a third party the rumors that were being told about me.
I remember waiting for them to confront me with the allegations and at least allow me to answer the charges, or explain them, or laugh because they were blatantly untrue.
I remember spending a terrible Christmas Eve and the next morning, hurt and wanting nothing more than to run out the door when I had flown back there to purposely spend the holiday with them.
I remember feeling unwanted and stonewalled.  Not allowed to even defend myself, they all just 'knew' it was true.


The last I heard about her, she sent my sister some texts which I was allowed to know the contents. I remember crying with my sister on the phone as I could hear her heart break and bleed.
I still hurt when I hear that song on the work radio station.
I hurt when I want to call her and just talk, but know that I cant.
I grieve when I talk with other people about their family.

The thing is: she isnt dead.
As far as I know she is alive and doing fine.
I miss her, and I wish I could reach out and hug her without being afraid of being stabbed by her disapproval and negative comments.
I wish I could spend a holiday with her and the other people in the family just being family.
She meant more to me than my own mother, and suddenly I find myself with another hole in my life where a friend used to be.
I feel like she died, when I know she is very much alive.
I love you, Grandmom.  I miss how you used to be.