Does anyone ever feel that looming sense of inadequacy? A sense that you'll never be good enough?
Today I'm feeling that more than ever.
Today, one year ago, my grandmother had a stroke. Two days before we had gone to a wedding and she looked absolutely radiant and was looking healthy again (for someone who was 78).
This was Grandma, a photo taken on 1st December, 2012. Never would have guessed that two days later she would have a massive stroke that would result in the end of her life.
Even now it is difficult for me to think about. The day before she had her stroke, my mother, my grandmother and I decided to go to Bingo - something that she absolutely loved to do (something I wish I did more with her). She even won $480 dollars that day.
My grandmother had a signature dish 'Macaroni with Chop-meat' (I'm sure someone you know has a signature dish, and you know just how special it is).
A few hours before her stroke, she had made this signature dish (for the last time), and when my mother and I ate it, we couldn't help but notice that it seemed to be the best she had ever made it. We were so enamored with how great it tasted we even got on to the subject of how she when about making it (something I regret not paying more attention too in the past).
It all seems so unreal, and looking back, I realize just how perfect those last few days were, and just how lucky my family and I were able to spend those days with her without regret.
She died on 14th December 2012, although I mistakenly think sometimes she died on 3rd December 2012 - because after her stroke it was as if she was already gone, already taken from us without warning.
Here is the last picture we have of her, holding a teddy bear that my brother gave to her, taken on the 9th December 2012:
Not a single day has gone by that I don't think about my grandmother. Even a year later I still think about her and it brings me to tears. I wish so badly that I could have said I love you one more time.
Even though I told her everyday I loved her - it seems no matter how many times you tell someone you love them, it's never enough. No matter how much time you spend with someone, it's never enough.
There's never enough time, not enough minutes, hours, days or months in a year - not enough years in our lives.
I'm starting to feel as though I'm never going to amount to anything. Ever since the passing of my grandmother (and even before that) I had started to feel really down on myself, and that feeling isn't going away. I can't seem to get a handle on anything in my life anymore. Not my weight, not my job (which I'm losing on the 13th of December) not my school (I'm doing awful this semester), nothing. I feel very blank inside, sort of like a white piece of paper, stuck between the pages of colourful sketch book. Where everyone around me seems to be happy and accomplishing things in there lives, I seem to have been skipped over, and forgotten.
Today the only thing I can think about is my grandmother, and how much I truly miss seeing her everyday.
Sometimes the only thing keeping me going is the thought that my grandmother is around, somewhere, in spirit or in memory she's still around. For now all I have is the memory of her love - and hopefully that will be enough to pull me through whatever is in my head I can't seem to overcome.
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