Loss.

I miss my Grandmommie.  Terribly.

I can't believe it's almost been two years since her death and I also can't believe how gut-wrenchingly painful her loss still is.  She is still the first person I want to call when something exciting or awful happens. I wonder if that urge to talk to her will ever change and I wonder if I really want it to.

When she died, I tried to frame the entire experience in a way that would help me to make sense of her loss and to hopefully gain some valuable life lessons and I think I did.  I mean, I realized that death is inevitable and living life with intention and purpose is crucial.  I learned that a life lived in service and love are what really makes ones life meaningful.  My mind knows that I've been changed for the better because of her death but it doesn't really matter to me tonight because my heart is broken and there is a lot of pain gushing out.

I keep trying to look at the positive and think about good memories in the hopes that it will once again make sense to me but the truth is, it doesn't make sense to me and I'm beginning to wonder if maybe it never really has.  Two years later, I still miss her everyday and I can't believe that she isn't here.  I still can't go to her grave without weeping and sometimes I am so overwhelmed by feelings of sadness and loneliness for her that I all I can do is cry.

Maybe one day when I think of her I won't feel such a paralyzing loss but today is not that day.