It was a Monday evening, and we had a night planned. Multiple dogs were on their way, and I was feeling good.
When my Mom told me she had bad news, I immediately knew. I had felt this odd feeling the past weekend and was thinking about my great-grandma often, so I knew.
At first, all I felt was guilt. If I had just visited her last weekend. If I hadn’t had car troubles a few months ago when I was going to help her move.
I hated how happy I had been all-day while my grandma was already gone.
After the guilt, came anger. Why couldn’t she make it till Christmas? I didn’t get to say goodbye
Then came the sadness. Holiday commercials made me cry – something I rarely do when it comes to television. I would be doing okay, and then it would hit me all over again, the pain.
Depression hit hard on Thanksgiving. A holiday my grandma used to host. My heart ached for her, and the day dragged on.
I’ve reached acceptance, but I’m not over it. I never will be. You don’t move on from grief. I will, however, move forward.