Getting Through

Yesterday was rough.

Yesterday was packing three little kids and my mom and husband into the minivan for 3 hours and going to say good bye my grandma. And three hours back.

Yesterday was resenting my mom for being upset about her impending loss; she's had both parents for over half a century.

Yesterday was being annoyed by the continued lack of bladder control of a three year old crazy man.

Yesterday was eating bad fast food and spending too much on gas.

Yesterday was Greg reminding me that the end of one's life, though maybe not as graceful as we'd choreograph, gives others the opportunity to show their love by serving.

This morning I got the call. My grandmother has died. She passed away this morning with many of her 10 children close by.

And even though I am just one of over a hundred grand- and great- grandchildren, even though I felt like I wasn't close, wasn't very important, today, I am grieving. I feel the loss.

When I was a child, learning about death, I remember my father telling me he wouldn't die for a very long time. As my children learn about death, as they ask those questions, I tell them everybody dies and you never know when. And I hug them tightly.

Why, when we know it's inevitable, when we know it's our ultimate fate ... why is death so hard to accept? Why, when it is universal, does it feel unfair? Why does it leave us feeling robbed, cheated?

My grandma lived a long, full life. She leaves behind an impressive legacy. And I mourn her loss and am reminded of all the other loved ones I miss.

I don't know what happens when we die, if our intelligence goes on, if part of us exists, aware, forever. But I'd rather believe that it does. So, I will.