Grief is…. The weirdest thing
Since I lost my grandfather at the beginning of December I’ve had just a few times where it really hit me.
The first was before I even found out he had passed. It was a Saturday morning about 130 in the morning. I was standing in the kitchen putting away dishes, and it just hit me. Standing over the sink, sobbing uncontrollably. I knew it was a matter of time, I had seen him just 12 hours earlier. A shell of the man I’d known my entire life.
He wasn’t there anymore. Not really. And I know that. Logically I know it’s true. But it still hurts.
Tonight, watching Greys anatomy and it’s the episode where George’s dad dies. But before he goes into surgery and he’s telling George that he’s sorry. When he was a kid his dog didn’t run away. He accidentally ran over it.
I wanted to laugh. I really did. Because as we were sitting in the hospital room the day before he passed. Just the family. Sharing stories. My grandma tells me that they lied to me. When I was a kid I had a cat that was my favorite cat. I vividly remember coming home from church and my parents telling me that my cat was crossing the road and got hit by a car. I was devastated, I was still in my nice dress from being an usher, and running to my bedroom and climbing into my bunk bed bawling.
So as we’re all sitting there. And my grandma tells me that my cat was not hit by a car when crossing the road. She was in the driveway and my grandfather ran her over. He couldn’t bare to tell me the truth. So they lied to me. And I find out on my grandfathers death bed.
So again I say, grief is the weirdest thing. An episode I’ve seen a few times made me absolutely lose it and think of the family revelation that we had and think about something that I hadn’t thought about since that day when I heard it.
