Journey, Feast, and Live

When you get a call from your mother close to 4am on a Sunday morning, you know it can’t be a good thing. Especially when you aren’t at home in your place. I was sleeping in a multiperson hostel with friends in Freiburg.

When I was able to call my mom, I was given the news, I never wanted to receive. My grandmother was gone. She was 84, so she lived a good life, it’s one of those ages where you really can be happy to get to. However, it doesn’t stop the tears, it doesn’t stop the pain. It doesn’t stop the regret.

My grandmother was an interesting person, born in the great depression era, not to mention at a time, when racial equality wasn’t a thing. She made major strides in her life to raise a family with my granddad, have my mom and my uncle. After doing all of that, she raised me.

Just like with any parent, there were conflicts, because she had her way of doing things, she was old school. When I look back, I remember the annoying things that happen. I remember the times she made me upset, didn’t want me to do various things. Wanted me to say a certain thing, but I decided my way was better. I remember the hell I took for not doing it the way she wanted. In hindsight once I got to a certain age, I realized, that’s just the way people grow up and that’s how they learn to do things.

With all of that, her love, her spirit, her guidance are the things that my mom, stepdad, uncle, aunt, and I will miss. My grandmother was tough. She didn’t take anything from anyone. She had a style that today would rub a lot of people wrong, but I have to say is what a lot of situations need. It makes me sad my little sister won’t be able to really know her. My sister is 5, she knows grandma, but as a lot of I know, she doesn’t know her. I wrote a friend that I in some way think it’s better that way. She doesn’t feel the hurt or pain. She’s just a happy little girl, she knows grandma isn’t around anymore, but I know she doesn’t really know what that means. Won’t understand or feel anything until years later.

I know I’m probably really off in this thought, but it’s one thought in my mind. Now life is different. It’s way different. I feel like an adult. Weeks before I told my colleague that because of various work things, I really felt like an adult. I also said I didn’t like it! I just want to be a kid! With no responsibilities or anything. Is that so wrong? I know it’s not real, but that’s what I want.

This last little bit has been a lot on us. I have cried almost everyday, it’s so crazy. My stepdad has told us the torch has been passed on. That is true, in some ways. In others, my grandmother was one of a kind. To do her proud, we have to be kind like her. We have to be friendly like her. Not to mention, we are going to speak our minds to certain people, because even though certain people won’t want to listen to us, they will just have to listen. You might not like what you are going to hear, but you will hear it.

I’ve dealt with the death of loved ones before, my granddad passed away in 2011, another tough moment, but this time is different. This time, I have to stepup, though I really don’t want to. I just want to hide and never come out. It’s not realistic, I know, but that’s what I want. Too bad the clicking the heels thing doesn’t work for real.

Now that would be great.