On January 18, at 7 o’clock in the morning my most beloved grandma, the light of my childhood, the seed of all love that grows me left us to be with God. The news broke me, they came through a soft text message I received from my mom. But there was nothing soft in how I received this new reality. Tears did not seem acid enough, I wanted them to eat raw the skin on my face. It was chocking and unbelievable and yet I knew it’s real. I couldn’t bring myself to go to Romania for the funeral. Instead that day I went to work like any other day. Except that my clothes were completely black and my heart devoid of everything. I cried too much, I worried Catalina to the point she told me she doesn’t think I’ll ever recover. And I know there will be a part of me that will never recover.
My grandma was my gravity point. I’m floating without direction now waiting to bump into dark realities and not getting my spark of love to guide me.
I guess there will come a time when I’ll look at pictures of my grandma and not cry. Maybe even get stronger and remember the good. The pain is too big now. I miss her too much. I just want her back and I know that all my tears and sorrow can’t do anything. Just eat at my brain to spite all normalcy that tries to make its daily occurrence.
I dreamed of my grandma since. She was walking easily. My grandma walked with much difficulty in her last years, her legs were aching most of the time. In my dream she was stretching her upper body and her arms, she was telling me she needs to move a little. But even in my dream my grandma told me she’s passed away. Maybe she’s telling me in my dreams that she’s better where she is. Or maybe my brain tells my subconscious that I need to accept this. I still don’t know how.
