Grief

Dealing with the death of a loved one is a strange experience.  Of course it's sad and depressing, but that is the obvious part.  Death oddly brings people together.  It brings people together when most other scenarios won't warrant such call to action.

Even when you haven't seen the person who is on their deathbed for months, or years, it will bring people together.  What is on everyone's mind, is that they need to see this person one last time, before they're gone.  Is this hypocritical? Is this fair?  Well, it is most definitely strange and surreal, and brings out a different side of people.

The weirdest part to me would have to be the aftermath.  What is left in the wake of this tragic event?

Personally, the hardest part was seeing my grandmother becoming undone, and not the fact that she passed.  We all knew shed pass eventually, but this was the first big death in the family that I experienced in my lifetime, so it was definitely a shock.  

So...the day of the funeral comes, and it was honestly joyous.  Everyone celebrated her memory together happily, and everyone was smiling.  

The big missing detail here is that Yiayia (grandma in Greek) lived at home with us for over a decade before she left us.  So now; it is two weeks after the funeral, and everyone who came to support us in our time of grief has already moved on back to their regular lives (understandably).  The house is so quiet, and of course feels very different, yet life moves on.  Now life feels like a train that never gets passed those first few labored chugs that get it going.  

I'd like to reassure that I am okay if you are reading this, because it (grief) is such an interesting concept to me.  Losing Yiayia made me think about how powerful love is.  Love is what brought the whole family together to see Yiayia, the matriarch of the family; almost like a mob boss, honestly.  

As there is information out there on grief, I find it necessary to comment on the fact that I did not experience the 5 stages of grief, as listed here in detail (https://grief.com/the-five-stages-of-grief/).

Acceptance came fairly early on, as Yiayia was 96 years old.  None of us were okay with seeing her suffer, and we knew it was her time - remember that she lived with us (family of six in total) for over a decade - so we all knew and loved a very different version of her during that time period. 

This one is for Yiayia, she taught me so much, and even in death taught me a valuable lesson about the love you give and to whom.