One year ago today we laid my Grandmother to rest.
One year later…
In many ways it feels like the wound of loss is healed.
Yet it is just as fresh as it was one year ago.
Few moments pass that I am not reminded of her.
Her love for her family.
Her love for her friends.
Her love for flowers.
Her love for life.
A couple months ago I was on a train. A few seats ahead of me was a group of older women. They were a group of friends headed to a flower show. They so reminded me of her and her friends, and her love for flowers. I sat on the train with the strangers around me and was unable to hide my emotions. I wiped my eyes and looked out the window. I used all my will power to regain control, but my attempts were futile. I just hid my face the best I could. When I got off the train it only got worse. I was walking in the cold winter air sobbing uncontrollably. The tears felt like they were freezing as they slipped down my cheek. After several failed attempts of trying to reach my wife, I called my mother. After the soft tone of her hello I proceeded to tell her the story through the raw emotion of the moment. Barely able to speak, and with a tear streaked face, I told her the story. I had to tell someone; it seemed the only way to bring the unbridled emotion back into control. I pulled the phone away from my ear and pressed the tear soaked end button. And with that I was able to dry the freezing tears from my face and continue to my office.
There is something comforting knowing that the pain of loosing someone you loved is still so fresh. To me it means their memories are still part of your every day life. It also means that life is even more precious.