over it, and grieving

After work, my coworker, Emily, and I went and got a margarita and bitched for an hour. Funny how tequila and whining put everything in perspective. Actually, what really helped was the email I sent later that night (after I'd sobered up) to my boss, explaining why I was so frustrated that day and listing the things I think we are doing wrong. He wrote back and said I was "100% right" and thanked me for the feedback. We're supposed to talk about it later today. That's one thing I will say for him-- he's always open to feedback, even if it's negative. He knows that I have the best interests of the company, and him too, at heart, and I feel a bit renewed today.

Today is also my maternal grandmother's birthday. She is 79 years old. Mom is supposed to call me from her room at the dementia ward later today so I can wish her a happy birthday. She only has some time left where she'll remember my name over the phone. I'm going to see her in two weeks, going to take her to eat catfish.

My maternal grandfather's birthday would have been tomorrow, and he would have been 80. She was one day less than a year younger than him.

In honor of my grandfather, and also because the last paragraph of this post is pretty much how I was feeling yesterday, like every little thing was a splinter in my hand, I'm reposting today "grieving" from January 13 of last year.

"I grieve more than most people, I think. I'm still grieving my grandfather who passed two and a half years ago. There are days it catches me so off guard-- I'll be doing something as simple as washing my face, and a random thought or memory sweeps over the top of my brain and I feel this ache, a deep, gnawing ache, trapped behind my rib cage above my stomach, like a scream I swallowed a long time ago that's now begging to be released. It hurts so completely I double over and being to sob. I miss him so much sometimes. I'd give anything just to hear his voice again.

Does everyone do this? Two and a half years later? It doesn't happen often, maybe once every couple of months. Right after his death it was once every couple hours, then every couple days, so I guess it is fading.

Part of me doesn't want it to fade. Maybe that's what's wrong-- I think if I stop grieving, all that I have remaining of him will be gone. 

I wasn't done with him yet, I wasn't done learning from him and loving him and being in his presence. When my great-grandmother died at 98, it was hard. She was a very important person in my life and influenced who I am greatly. But she was so old and I felt so blessed to have had her that long. She was ready to go. Maybe that makes the difference. Granddad fought the dying of the light to his last breath, fought the cancer with everything he had. I don't have anyone else in my life that was like him-- so strong and masculine and yet caring and joyful and loving. 

I just realized that describes my husband perfectly as well. Huh. And I've taken parts of my grandfather and internalized them; I do things that he would appreciate, like digging in the dirt with my bare hands, using a hammer and screwdriver with confidence, telling people the whole honest truth. So obviously if I stopped grieving him I wouldn't lose him completely. It just feels that way.

I guess this is just a part of my personality. I grieve dead animals on the side of the road, I grieve days lost to migraines, I grieve every soldier and civilian killed in the mid-east, I grieve every argument and harsh word I've had and spoken. I'm not a sad person. I'm actually very happy in my life. Content. I just feel things so deeply, and I don't think other people understand this. I know they don't. Because I don't either, at least not completely."