So, it’s been a while, eh?
I’ve not neglected the blog, I’m just simply not neglecting life.
My grandmother passed away last month and I’ve been in a bit of a haze. Head’s been a bit of a jungle – juggling normalcy on one side and proving work-life balance on the other; holding on to muffled tears at one point and crying like there’s no tomorrow the next.
My cousin D and I have felt the intensity of it – she was there when it happened, and we were there when the body was taken away. The gravity of not being able to see her everyday (D), and the hugeness of knowing I can’t see her when I can, is quite unnerving.
And it’s always hard to grieve. Not especially when you’re expected to run 100 miles per hour.
Sometimes, there’s an intense heat running down my stomach attempting to kill my insides and I just let it. The desire to sever all senses is so immense and I would love to – for at least a couple of hours – not feel anything, not think of anything, not sense anything. In the most random moments I hear her laughter and I see her face. It’s all good until the giggles turn into screaming and her smile turns to tears. I begin shutting this out until I realise I can only have her in those moments. Those memories.
Grief is a funny thing, is it not? It comes with an ocean of sadness in unpredictable waves, the guilt of trying to move on for wanting to be normal, and the emptiness that can never be replaced.
The truth is, this cycle is vicious but life will go on, and you’ll have happier – if not the best of – days.
Although you do live with a hole in your heart.
But, as they say, you’ll be okay.
My grandmother was an amazing woman. She’s been through tough times, having lost her husband so young. Still, she managed to raise her children and grandchildren to become the successful people they are today.
Here’s to a woman who had always championed love – of her family, of her in-laws, of those who knew her and of her, of the only man she had ever really loved. I hope as we all try to take steps and go forward, my Nanay is up there smiling at us with my Tatay dancing in the moonlight.
Love and light, Nanay.