Twenty-one days. That's how many days it's been since she left us. Twenty-two days ago I was telling her stories. Twenty-three days ago she was sitting up to hug people. Now, she's gone. Just like that. I will not see my nana again, save my dreams. I simply cannot believe she isn't here. It's not like an I-can't-believe-I-left-my-phone-at-the-restaurant or I-can't -believe-that- the - steelers- lost. It's an I- wholeheartedly-can't-believe-that-I cannot- go- see- her, that I cannot hear her voice, or see her smile.
I remember every time I'd leave the nursing home, I wouldn't get up and bend over to give her a kiss. I was terrified that I wasn't strong enough and I'd fall on her. What an asshole. I'd blow her a kiss or kiss my fingers and touch her cheek, what I'd give to fall on her. Then there were the times that I'd get there and she would be asleep, and I'd let her sleep. Why? Why didn't I just wake her up to talk to her? Selfish, I know.
I hated going to the nursing home. But... I remember thinking the last time I left there that I wish I could come back a thousand times. I wish I could just go see her again. Just one more time. What I would give.
The thing is, and maybe that's why I cannot deal with this, is that my nana was a just like a mother to me. My dad wasn't there, at least how he should have been. We had my mom and my nana. It's just like I loss a parent. It's just so deep. So invasive. So awful.
And I don't know when it gets better. When the realization that nana is gone will stop taking my breath away. I remember when talking about my physical pain, my mom used to tell my doctors that she didn't know if I was just used to the pain and thought that this is how a body should feel like or if I didn't complain because I didn't hurt. I still hurt from losing my nana. Will it get better or do you just get used to it? What worse?
I know for a fact, I believe 100% in the deepest corners of my heart that Nana wouldn't want me to be sad, or any of us to be sad. But how can you just not feel something through to the end. It's like having to finish a book even though you know how the story ends and it's the dumbest ending ever.
A huge problem is that I am finding little to be grateful for. I will work on that. My nana was stolen away over five years ago and twenty-one days ago the thieves made sure she'd never return. Cruel. And I don't know why it had to happen. I saw on the news today - a 105 year old barber who is still working! Why? Why couldn't nana be the 105 bartender? It's like I get jealous when I see old folks out. What did they do differently?
A friend of mine told me once that losing a loved one will always make you think of things in a before and after time span. It's so true. I think this at least ten times each day: I think that was before nana died and that was after my nana died. Like Jesus H. Christ, my nana died. F. F. F. I don't know why such a sweet person couldn't just stay here forever?
When our dog got cancer I, ever so optimisticly, convinced my nana and my mom to drive to Cornell. I can still see my nana telling the staff, she (Ginger) is such a good dog. She's a nice girl. As if that would have helped Ginger live longer. There I was on New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, she's such a nice, kind, generous, and sweet lady. Please just heal her and give her back to us. Almost just like Ginger, that didn't happen.
You could be the sweetest soul your entire life, but in the end what does it matter? I hope that nana didn't feel pain, but it was still terrible for everyone, especially her. Just to wait. Literally wait to pass away.
She studied my face so hard the last day. I like to think it was because all of her memory came back and she couldn't believe the person I grew up to be, even though I was just 26 when she started to forget things, I didn't have a child then or such great eyebrows. I remember she was just staring at me. She had no interest in going to sleep. I sometimes also think that she was studying my face so she'd recognize me when, and if, I get to where she was going. So that she'd remember me in heaven.
Sometimes I just don't know what to do with myself, especially when Lennon is asleep. If I stop and think, I end up writing blogs at 5 in the morning. I haven't been down and out in a very long time. I know for certain that I have never been this down and out.
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