Friday, April 25, 2014

Giving myself permission to feel.

Today I was deleting old messages on my phone and came across several that my grandma had left. Many of them just calling to say hello and going on and on how cute my kids are and how proud of me she was.
She was my cheerleader and someone who could only see the good qualities in me. Tears streamed down my face as I heard her cute little voice and her genuine love for me and my family.
I could never ever delete these messages. ever.
But truthfully it still hurts.
 I keep wondering if it is normal to be so sad still many months after a grandparent passes away? To constantly have a lump in my throat when I talk about her? To open the floodgates of tears anytime I come across a birthday card she wrote? To stay up late and replay in my mind that dramatic and heart-wrenching final goodbye at the hospital over and over again.
Is this normal?
The funny thing is that as my counselor hat comes on- I would tell anyone who is grieving (no matter the circumstances) to take all the time they need to reflect, ponder, and grieve. That grief comes in waves and different magnitudes and to just ride the waves as they come without pushing them away.
Ha but do I take my own advice?
{Grandaughters wearing her dresses and pearls}
 Just as I think I am ready to adjust to life without my grandmother in it...I find myself struck with a memory that sends tears streaming down my face. I then begin to rationalize why I shouldn't really be that sad. She is in a better place, she is happier, she is not in pain, she is with grandpa, blah blah blah.

But the truth is. I am still sad. I am not allowing myself time to just be silent. She was the heart of our family... and I am not only grieving not seeing her anymore but grieving the way her home smelled and always felt warm. I am grieving the way she would take my hand in hers when we talked. I am grieving her orange rolls and peach cobbler. I am grieving her funny jokes and sense of humor. I am grieving the stories she told us over and over again. I am grieving her Sunday dinners. I am still grieving.

Her home with her in it, is all I had left from my childhood family before my parents divorced. And now it is suddenly gone without warning. Wounds have been reopened as I feel some of the feelings resurface from the loss of my parent's divorce. Grief is so complicated.

Since her unexpected death in early February, I feel like I have had this creative block... actually not even just a creative block but a block in many areas of my life. Like, almost as time is standing still...or at least for me while the world continues on without me. I sometimes just feel like curling into a warm blanket with my kids and my husband and never letting go...especially with this week of rain- I just want to snuggle.

I so badly have been wanting to write more in here and to do more art-journaling and to teach and to really grow this blog...and...everything else... but I feel paralyzed. Ideas are constantly swirling in my mind...but I can't seem to get my heart and mind to align. My mind wants to do all those things...but my heart is... somewhere else... silently grieving. There doesn't seem to be room for anything else at the moment but to be silent. To shut off the crazy world and give myself permission to feel sad. 
So, bare with me as I write out loud some of the impressions in my heart as I make room for more creativity and light and move forward with all the things I have in store for you. I have some great just need the space in my heart to begin.

Hug and squeeze those people you love this weekend!

besitos, xo


  1. My grandmothers passed before I was born so I've always been envious of people who have known that relationship. It seems so special. Be in your feelings, you have every right to mourn the loss of someone who meant so much. I love the picture of ya'll in her dresses, so beautiful!

  2. I still think about my grandma Hilda who died 24 years ago. She would have turned 90 this May. She has been my strength and comfort to think of her hard life and the way she coped with it all with dignity. Eight children by the time she was 28 and one who died. After her separation how did she raised all her remaining seven children as a single mother? The only answer is her faith. She had so much faith for better times ahead and that kept her going.