Grief is Weird

It has been a few months since my grandmother passed away and I am still experiencing serious grief. I keep thinking about the quote from Wandavision (how silly is it that I’m quoting a Marvel TV show in a very personal writing):

“But What Is Grief If Not Love Persevering?”

Wandavision

In these months of grief, I have felt this to my core. The moments I feel grief the most are the moments where I felt love the most. That’s where I get the very deep and eloquent thought, “grief is weird.”

Grieving Structure

My grandmother was a pillar of our family. Her presence and love built the structure of our family. Our traditions, customs, and rituals really revolved around her. Now, with that last tent pole no longer there, we are looking around trying to figure out what to do with all this fabric that we value but don’t know what to do with. The fabric seems to really be slipping through my fingers the most in two areas.

Vacation

Every year, most of my mother’s family goes on vacation together. It has happened literally every year of my life – aunts, uncles, cousins, head to a house on the beach. The numbers grew each year as kids were born, relationships became marriages, marriages bore more kids. We got up to about 40 of us all in a house together.

If it sounds overwhelming, it is. Weirdly, because it happened the same every year, it also was so easy in many ways. There are flows to the week, structure for meals and expectations, and lots of laughter.

It is also magic.

The future of our family vacation is up in the air.

The house

My grandparents lived in the same house that they raised my mother and her siblings until they passed. This house was the site of every Christmas Eve, most Thanksgivings, Mother’s Days, and many other occasions. It was sold this week.

Kids make things better and worse

Having toddlers during this time of grief is a wild ride. They make life better and more complicated all at the same time. Just having my son out of nowhere say, “well, we won’t see grandma because she’s dead,” is the kind of dark comedy gold that writers strive to achieve.

I had the most difficult moment of parenting through grief this past weekend when I had to explain to my 4-year-old son that we will not be returning to Grandma’s house. It didn’t help that he was asleep in the car and then came in quickly to go to the bathroom. Any parent will tell you that car naps are also a blessing and a curse.

He kept asking where everything was, specifically the toys she kept for the kids. Having to explain we will never return was something I just wasn’t ready for. Saying things out loud always makes them way more real. There were tears shed, his and mine.

Intertwining of Love, Joy, and Sadness

And this is where grief is so weird. It permeates everything. The joyful moments of vacation had sadness with the unknown and loss of our pillar. Another family will come into that house and create more memories. We will have the opportunity to create our own traditions as a venue for love and joy.

It is a constant middle. That love is never-ending, so neither is the grief. Figuring out how to work through that is something we learn to do more over time.

If grief is love persevering, then my grandma was pure love. I truly aspire to achieve that level of love in my life.