I’ll also be writing this week about my new tattoos, the whys and everything, so I also hope you’ll check back.
Thank you for reading today. You have no idea how much it means to me.
My grandmother is dying right now. And by the time these words go to post, that might even be inaccurate. I might be scanning Travelocity for plane tickets for a funeral.
Last Thursday after my mother had called me and said the word “hospice,” I drove myself to the store and found myself weeping on the way. And I cursed myself because my grief surprised me. She’s my grandmother, not my child or my sister or even my own mother or father. She’s special to me and holds my history in her gnarled hands, but there is some distance, both geographically and emotionally.
Yet I wept.
And I began, mile by mile, to give myself the permission to grieve a death that is imminent but not yet occurred. I began to give myself the permission to recognize that grief, however small or big, is absolutely real and right to the person experiencing it….