My grandmother's arms felt like the safest place on Earth to me. My nana knew all of my quirks and she never tried to change any of them.
It wasn't sudden her death. We had time to prepare for the worst but no time seems enough to help cope with the loss. My grandmother died in her sleep last week. She seemed to have a slight smile on her face so I want to believe she went peacefully because anything else at this point will be just too much for me to grasp. I cannot fathom how my mom must be feeling but there's always going to be a part of me that will never heal. My grandmother was my best friend, my mother and the one person who wanted to see me do well in life and without her, I'm nothing. They say time heals all wounds, but even if this wound does heal, I'm sure it's going to leave an ugly scar, one that's going to be painful just to even look at.
My first memory is of her bundled up before the fireplace knitting furiously. She'd always have the home neat and tidy and she went to the market every week to get fresh Lillies for the vase. She'd hum a tune when she got her chores done, and I could see her face beaming with love when she saw me walk up to the house. I remember her smell so vividly: she smelled of vanilla and lilies. She was always warm with glistening eyes brimming with love, ready to overflow any second. I've honestly never seen her without a smile on her face.
My grandmother's arms felt like the safest place on Earth to me. My nana knew all of my quirks and she never tried to change any of them. She accepted me with her arms open. She gave me my freedom and she trusted me to not cross the line. I told her things I could never tell mom, and she let me make a mess of the kitchen when I decided I wanted to become a baker. She'd clean it all up and she'd never once did she complain. Instead, she only kept encouraging me. She also instilled in me a bunch of good qualities that I will carry around for as long as I live.
I read and write because of her. My grandmother was a voracious reader, but since she was from an era where women working was frowned upon, she stayed at home, taking care of my grandfather. But the one thing she made sure was that I did not end up like her, or like my mother. My mom's coping with the loss by drowning herself in work, but I don't know how to deal with this, it's suffocating me.
I was planning on visiting her for Easter but now, I'm changing the dates on them to fly for her funeral instead. I wake up at night because I feel like she's around and she's calling out my name. I come back to my senses and I just can't help but cry because I miss her so much. If only I could have had some more time with her. My body aches like it never has before and I can't stop thinking about her. Nana, I miss you and I hope you're happy wherever you are.