Grieving my Grandma

My grandma recently died almost two months ago now. Besides the loss of beloved pets, I have not experienced a familial death since I was 11 years old, which was that of my late grandpa, the husband of my aforementioned grandma.

Some years ago, I for whatever reason started getting a bit fixated on death-- just very aware that all of my loved ones will someday pass away; this thought would enter my mind and cause me emotional distress. Sometime later, I lost two pets of mine within months of each other that were very dear to me, which was extremely difficult in general, but especially because the nature of their deaths were heartbreaking.

I think because of my grandma's passing, I again have the awareness of death at both the foreground and background of my mind, but it's a bit different than before. Now, it seems like nearly daily, I wake up and I feel so thankful for another day of my life, and another day with everyone and everything I love. I feel hyperaware that in life, everything can change in a literal instant, so I am so thankful each day that things are as I know them and love them to be. The fixation aspect may not be entirely healthy, but it also brings to mind the phrase "momento mori" meaning, "remember you will/must die." I think it's good to have an awareness of the inevitables of life versus ignoring them and pretending that they don't exist or will never be, but also not to the point that it's distressing and negatively affecting one's overall joy and presence. Additionally, the well-known phrase from the Serenity Prayer enters my mind: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change."

I was going through my phone contacts recently and I saw my grandma's name and number, and it hit me that I will never call that number again. I memorized it as a child. I've never really had a thought like that before; it was a weird feeling of having the awareness that a number I've known and called since I was a kid wouldn't be hers anymore. In my mind it will still be hers, but obviously I can't call it to talk to her anymore.

I have the belief that life goes on and that we reconnect with loved ones who have passed, and I believe that they are able to be around us in spirit and send signs. I feel like they're still here and still exist, but just in a different way and form that we have known them as, and loved them as, and have gotten used to them as. So I do believe my grandma is around in a way, and sends signs. 

I think what has been hardest for me is letting go of the nature of her death, which to me was devastating and difficult to witness. My heart just hurt for her and still does, for the things she had to endure, and for what my family and I saw-- which felt like a sudden decline, with a drawn out ending. I have thought to myself, though, that she is not in that state anymore, and that she is hopefully at peace now. 

When we think about an event of the past, it doesn't actually exist anymore in the present moment, but we are just reliving it in our mind. So, in a way, it is not actually real, because the realness of that moment has already passed. So when I think or contemplate about the sad or hurtful times surrounding the end of my grandma's life, I am reliving and keeping events alive in my mind that actually no longer exist; so essentially, this feels like a disservice not only to myself, but also to my grandma. 

In recent weeks, I was speaking with my mom about how it does not feel fair to remember loved ones by their final, challenging days. For us, it's like those final moments are burned into our minds in a way, but the arduous days before their death were really just a blip compared to the fullness of their lives. I know, however, that it's human nature to think these things and have these feelings, and probably a normal aspect of the grieving process; so I am giving myself grace as I process a life on Earth where my grandma is no longer physically here too. It has made me realize that sometimes, just knowing someone exists in the same world as you is enough; you may not see them or talk to them often, or maybe really ever anymore, but just knowing they exist here is enough. <3

Auspicious Day

 May magic unfold

With years to behold

The treasure.

Through gifts,

I am gifted--

Physically and spiritually,

Energetically, auspiciously.

Everything good is coming my way,

And yours.

Mermaid & Sea Dragon

There I swim
Down, down, down
In oceanic depths of indigo.

With you there
We swim deeper and deeper
No fear or particular feeling,
It just is.

Following the feeling to go down
To go deeper,
Who knows where we are going.
But it’s right—
Or maybe, it just is.

The Fox

In the dead of winter

The fox rests in his den

Waiting for the world to bloom again.

Even though he’s hidden away

And the world appears barren

Earth’s inner embers illuminate with joy

At his existence.

The Fool

From the book Dhammapada:

"If the traveler cannot find

Master or friend to go with him,

Let him travel on alone

Rather than with a fool for company."

I had the thought this morning that when we miss someone, we are missing God's expression as that person. It's said that we are all expressions of God, donning different bodies, personalities, and ways of being. It's funny how we all apparently come from the same thing, but can be so different in how we are. There tend to be certain people, or expressions, that we particularly relate to, and especially love or like. We might feel exceptionally joyful and comfortable around certain expressions, or very disheartened by others. But I guess there is a comfort still, that it's all, we're all, kind of just the same thing. I might miss and dearly love certain expressions of God currently, and it's also amazing how many expressions there are that exist, to also miss and love-- not just people, but animals, plants, all of nature, elements like water and earth, stones, the sun and moon... There are so many things to love, miss, and put our attention and energy towards, or not.

The Heron & The Sun

The sun asked a blue heron, "How do you fly?"
"I fly not," spoke the heron. “I soar.”
“How do you shine so, with heat and rays?” questioned the heron.
“I shine not,” answered the sun. “I beam light and love for all to soak up— not for me, but for them. I ask nothing in return, but do delight in their joy and thankfulness.”

If we cannot live solely for ourselves, then let’s live for others, since we are all one and connected, anyways. With this, we can forgive all, and let go of sorrow and weariness. There is nothing to fret, but sadness and the brief loss of joy, before we return to wholeness by one thought alone: light.