tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6377645822488589663.post8829268148666065160..comments2023-10-03T06:34:41.500-07:00Comments on CM Albert Writes: Walking in her shoes: great-gramma Dotcmalbertwriteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12673999729113794910noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6377645822488589663.post-85491417037423680282013-02-27T11:04:02.057-08:002013-02-27T11:04:02.057-08:00Oh, Dylan. I can totally relate. And I am so sorry...Oh, Dylan. I can totally relate. And I am so sorry for the loss of him. But he is the amazing part of you that is a warrior and kind and funny. It's a cliche, but he does live on in you. Thank you for the courage to share your own story. <br /><br />When I got back from my gramma's funeral and the week we spent clearing out her house and getting it on the market (that's another story) I opened her suitcase that was still at my house (she died when she was down here visiting). I pulled out her sweater and I just inhaled her. Wrapped it around my face and felt the first comfort I had since she went into the hospital. <br /><br />A smell can bring you closer to a person than almost anything. It's a punch-you-in-the-gut-and-make-you-remember kind of sensation. I slept with that sweater for more than a week: I cried on it, inhaled its linger scent, and remembered my amazing gramma. Until the scent was gone--which just made me extremely sad, lonely, and angry that I couldn't smell her any more. <br /><br />I wish something could still hold a smell after three years. It's like getting a hug from them again. When the smell left the sweater, it felt like she had truly, fully slipped away and I just hadn't been ready for that. <br /><br />I think the counseling helped me let me walk through the grief finally and let go of some of the anger and helplessness I felt over losing her. But there is still not a single day that goes by that she is not on my mind or in my heart or in my actions. <br /><br />I guess all I can do now is be grateful beyond belief that she was in my life and that I got all those years with her in the first place. I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. cmalbertwriteshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12673999729113794910noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6377645822488589663.post-77756061774638251962013-02-27T06:57:31.784-08:002013-02-27T06:57:31.784-08:00This post of yours reduced me to tears...
I think...This post of yours reduced me to tears...<br /><br />I think your gramma means a lot to you just as my gramps means a lot to me.<br /><br />There are many funny things I remember about him...like how he always gave me coffee when I was a kid because I liked it...and then when Mom came home and smelled coffee on my breath, gramps would deny, deny, deny. We conspired together. He was so awesome.<br /><br />He also used to make me peanut butter toast every afternoon while I watched sesame street with him...fond memories, they are.<br /><br />It's been a little over a decade since I lost him but I don't think I've ever really been able to process my loss because, you see, grampa and Mom raised me. My Dad was never family oriented...while he was around, he just didn't have that kind of character because he was raised differently.<br /><br />I learned family values from both my Mom and Grampa...and a great part of who I am today is because of their influence.<br /><br />After gramps died, it was incredibly hard going back to the old house...I remember walking into his bedroom. It was empty and my heart sank. <br /><br />The first thing I did was open his closet. His clothes hung neatly and they smelled like him. I buried my head inside and took a deep breath and cried. That was all that was left of him.<br /><br />I sat on his bed, where his body had made an imprint on the old foam mattress and I ran my hand upon it, somehow trying to find comfort...and I found none.<br /><br />After that, I headed over to the cemetery to visit him and I kept crying. All my relatives thought I was crazy but I don't think they really understand the gravity and impact his passing had on me.<br /><br />My grandpa has at least 50+ grand kids and the only 2 he took care of were me and my brother. He was the king of the household and yet when it came to us, he changed our diapers, bottle fed us and took us to kindergarten. Everyone says he loved us the most...<br /><br />At the time of his passing, I was the youngest grandchild and I could not travel to attend his funeral because I had exams. It was extremely difficult.<br /><br />And I think the most painful part for me was that he died because of a brain aneurysm...and I think it was painful...and I didn't even get the chance to say a proper goodbye to the man who raised me since birth until I was 14.<br /><br />But his memory will always remain in my heart, no matter what.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04982104365502803143noreply@blogger.com