It’s been about a week since my grandmother’s passing. Tonight is the first night I’ve had time to just sit and think… It’s hard going into the room she stayed in. I don’t like it. It still smells of her. My family keeps writing on her facebook wall, and I really want to say something too, I just have no earthly idea what I would say. What can you say when something like that happens? I’ve always been bad with words anyways. I have broken down a few times. Pretty inopportune times too. I guess I’ve always had a connection with music that actually reminds me that it is okay to feel. I was on the way to class before my exam on Tuesday and just started bawling in the car. Actual sobbing. The hardest I’ve cried in a very long time. It’s just not fair. And the song that triggered me feeling that way was the one I’ve attached, “Eyes Open” by Taylor Swift. When I hear it, I just remember my mom singing the song while my grandmother was having a rough time, and I could just see it in her eyes that she wasn’t just singing “a song.” She sang the lyrics, “Everybody’s waiting for you to break down. Everybody’s watching to see the fall out. Even when you’re sleeping… keep your eyes open.” I just remember how much it tore me to see my mom in such a vulnerable state because of everything that was going on with her mother. I knew she meant those lyrics more than just at face value. How? Because I felt the exact same way for all of that time… even now. I guess I should have known that this would hit me eventually. I’ve never been good with dealing with such difficult things head on. It usually takes me a bit of time to let the news sink in, and then that opportunity of time alone so that I don’t have to upset those around me too. I don’t like other people seeing me upset or down. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to me. I absolutely don’t mind being there for friends in such horrid and unfortunate situations. They happen to all of us sometimes. I just don’t like being that vulnerable and weak in front of other people I guess.
The card that my grandma gave me is still in my room. It is handmade and inside it says,
“Ariana, you are the most lovely girl and grandchild in the world. Love you, girl.”
She was going to make cards for everyone while at home since she’d found out she wouldn’t have much time left, but only ever got around to making this one for me. I do miss her. I do love her. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now or what I’m supposed to be doing. I feel guilty almost for trying my hardest to put her far in the back of my mind so that I don’t have to think about the fact that she is gone. I feel guilty for those moments of happiness I’ve experienced since she’s been gone. I don’t know, I know it isn’t healthy to wallow in it, but I just don’t know what to do right now. I feel so helpless. Why couldn’t I have done more? Why couldn’t I have appreciated her more when she was here before she was sick? I feel guilty about that as well. Yes, tears are rolling down my face right now. I hope that when I finally go into the medical field that I can help prevent such travesties as this one from occuring. All because of a simple misdiagnosis. Really? That diagnosis that you wrote down on that piece of paper to visit a chiropractor because of a car accident and never thought of again prevented her from knowing beforehand. You, a licensed physician, failed to do a simple scan, or second look. Prevented her from being able to possibly prevent the cancer from spreading to a point that was non-repairable. You prevented her from living the rest of her life…