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Sorry for the confusion.
Have a totally awesome day!

Monday, June 18, 2007

Goodbye is the hardest word to say.

I'm not ready for her to leave this world, not ready to say goodbye, not ready to not be someone's grandchild. She is the last of her generation of parents. She has fought long and hard and done her best. I know this is her decision, but it's too soon. It will always be too soon.

When white light passes through a prism it is broken into an array of colors. When grief is filtered through an individual's perception of death, grief is broken into an array of emotions too many to name.

You can't know what this is like for me, no one can. Death is filtered through personal experiences, we all grieve in our own ways. Hold me and let me sob, need to feel safe. If only for this moment, I need to feel this pain.



Dear Winkleberry,

Some grandparents are part of a child’s life only fleetingly, there to buy presents and spoil them, or there only on special occasions and then gone with little or no communication, some are not present at all. You have been an integral part of every stage of my life, helping to raise me, to care for me, to comfort me and to teach me. You took care of my sister and me.

When our parents would leave town, you would play games with me when I was lonely; you undertook projects to make headbands and play the organ, and bake cookies at Christmas. You were willing to get dirty, to help pick “pomatoes” in the garden, to sit on the floor and play with us. You made sure we knew you love us and are proud of us.

Once you played baseball in your back yard on Calle de Rosa with an Oar and a tennis ball, another time you invited me over to look at slides and you made me a Peanut butter and Jelly sandwich. I felt like the most special person in the world because you took the time to spend time with me. I treasure all the memories of you I have.

I’ve known you for 19 years, you’ve been there to shape who I am in every way. It was from you I learned to go after what you want and not to give up until you get it, it was from you I learned to be strong, and it was from you I learned that just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I’m any less capable. Thank you for everything you have taught me.

I love you very, very much. I want you to know that I will always love you. I understand that what you’re going through right now is exhausting, painful, and scary. I want you to know that even if I don’t agree with the decisions you make, I will respect them because I respect you. I understand that if you are tired you have every right to rest.

I don’t know what’s going to happen when you are gone, no one does. But I do know that I want you to know how much you will always mean to me, and that I love you very, very much. I’m proud of you for fighting as hard as you have in everything you’ve done, you’re amazing.

Thank you, for everything. Thank you Grandma Wink.

Love you.
Kate

1 comment:

Zombolouge said...

That might be the saddest thing in the world. I cried a little, truly.

To avoid saying anything that is attempting to be meaningful but comes off meaningless, or even offensive, I will limit myself to just saying this:

Never let anyone tell you how to grieve. Laugh if you want, cry if you want. You do what you need to do, and if anyone thinks it is inappropriate, tell them to stuff it. Because, as you said, no one is you, so no one can know what is appropriate to how you feel.

Best wishes,

C.S.