June 10th 2010 - the day my mother had
to tell me the worst news of my life.
"There's no easy way to tell you this,
but your grandmother has passed away."
My heart stopped and time stood still
as I looked at her, shocked. How could
this have happened? My grandmother, so
full of life and laughter, now lying cold in
some hospital bed far away?
I didn't cry then, but I did cry. And when
I cried, I cried as if my heart were breaking.
My chest ached with a deep, unnameable
grief. I knew that I had to be strong, but at
the same time I knew that I couldn't bear
this pain on my own.
The next day was awful. I went through the
day on autopilot, my mind a blank and empty
space. I couldn't think, couldn't write, could
barely speak or eat. All I could do was hide
Now, two days on, I am slowly learning how
to deal with another family tragedy. It will
take time, but I will heal. Until then, I will
be grieving for Jean in the darkness, and
I will mourn her death in secret.
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