Good Grief

I usually don't like to talk about anything emotional, not being the sappy type. People who dwell and dwell on their sad life stories usually annoy me. Like at some point, you have to pick yourself up by the bootstraps and move on, right?

But seeing how grief is now going to be a part of my life for a while, it seems like it's time to come out with it. Maybe what I'm going through may be able to help others.

I've lost my dad, my father-in-law and my grandma in less than a year. It hasn't been easy. Some days are like, 'this is it, right? THIS is as hard as it gets. And then it gets harder, and somehow you just deal with it. Like an elastic band being stretched and stretched and you feel like eventually you'll just break. But then you don't. You bounce back. Humans are resilient creatures, who don't give themselves enough credit for all they survive through.

Most days I'm fine. But some days I'll be triggered. A song, a place, a food, a scent, a memory. Those are the things that bring me back to missing my loved ones and before I know it, my eyes are filling with tears all over again. Their laugh, their voice, their smile, ring through my memory as fresh as ever.

Like my dad's voice, I can still hear him saying now, in his soothing tenor, "just close your eyes and rest mija. You can rest." He used to tell me that all the time, when I'd go to visit him in the summer and I was too excited to close my eyes even though I was exhausted.

The other day, I was scrolling through my phone looking for a number, and I ran across his. 'Dad' the contact read, and I realized I could never call him again. Moments like that catch you by surprise.

And I'd never thought of the phrase "I'm sorry for your loss" to be so sickening, until I heard it on repeat. Sorry's don't fix it. When people die, it isn't over for those who survive them. Their memory lives on and thank God for that.

Even last night, as I watched a firework show with my family, surrounded by people I love and who love me, I felt...empty. Sad to remember the girl who used to be filled with so much hope and wonder and dreams just by watching a simple firework show and now I felt...nothing. Guess we all have to grow up eventually.

I know that my grandmother's loss is still too fresh and I'll feel less sad over time. I saw a MEME that said "grief never goes away, it just changes form" and I think that is pretty accurate.

What gives me hope is that my loved ones still live on by their stories. When we talk about them, reminisce and remember them. Passing on their stories and keeping them alive that way, I think is important. One day, if I'm allowed, I'll write their stories.

After all, like Margaret Atwood said, "In the end, we'll all become stories."

I'll be heading to another California funeral. But don't worry, I've been writing.

Take care all,

X Besitos - Kathey