12:05 am
It’s been one day since you died, Grandma.
I miss you, and I know it will be hard not to call you and hear your voice. Kenny and I stopped by your apartment today and cleared out the rest of your things. It was difficult not to cry. Traces of you were
e v e r y w h e r e.
I hope that you are safe and happy wherever you are. Your neighbor, Margaret, stopped by to tell me to ‘hang in there,’ and also to say that “Hell is real, and you need to give yourself to God.”
I need to think about that more on a different day when my head isn’t so fogged up. Also, my best friend, Janet, came over to help me gather some of your personal things that wouldn’t fit into Kenny’s car. When Kenny opened the door for her and we saw each other, she was in tears.
Remember how you said, “Anything that hurts you hurts me too.”? That’s how Janet was over your passing. She knew how much you meant to me in your human life. Each time your name is mentioned or I think about you, it’s like opening a fresh wound.
It hurts.
I know you are probably upset about us throwing some of your things away, but there’s nothing else that we could’ve really done. The other furniture that you had will hopefully go to someone who really needs it. It always upset me, Grandma, to see you living the way you did as well as where you did in Brooklyn. I wish you had lived on Long Island with my parents- or at least closer by.
I imagine you now living in a place that is beautiful and warm and sunny, where you can wear all sorts of different hats and outfits.
We are hard at work trying to figure out a burial arrangement for you. Can you believe that one funeral home we spoke to actually wanted $10k? It’s ridiculous.
I’m going to make a really nice scrapbook of all your pictures and some other stuff. You’ll like it.
12:23 am
What resonated with you?