Suckerpunched (alternate title - this post is a major downer you've been warned)

One week ago.

It was one week ago I lost a woman I've admired and looked up to my entire life. It was one week ago I realized things I've known and looked forward to my entire life will never be again. It was one week ago that a piece of childhood I've carried with me into adulthood died. One week ago I lost grandma. One miserable, no good, very bad week.

I feel cheated, I feel sad, I can still break into tears at any unexpected moment during the day. One week and she is gone. She's supposed to be coming up here, she's supposed to be making Grandpa soup in Georgia, she's supposed to be complaining about squirrels eating the bird seed, she's supposed to be watching Sean and Jackson play baseball this spring. She's supposed to be lots of thing, what she's not supposed to be is gone.

The funny thing is I have it easy. I'm back home with my kids, my husband and my "normal" life, even though nothing quite feels normal yet. I think of my Georgia family and the fact that they are in her house everyday where it smells like her and where her slippers and cane sit by the bed waiting for her to come home. I think of Grandpa and how his wife of 63 years is suddenly not sleeping next to him in bed anymore. I think of my mom and aunt and uncles who lost their mommy and I honestly can't imagine how hard that is if it's this hard on me. I think of my cousins in Georgia who are much younger and who are used to seeing her everyday. Maybe all of this is actually making it harder on me since I feel so useless 500 miles away. I can't do anything to help ease the pain there and I'm just supposed to be back home and ok - like a week ago before everything suddenly changed.

My heart is so split right now. I long to be back in Georgia grieving and healing with my extended family, but at the same time selfishly want to be here with my kids who ease the pain just by being them.

When people ask how I'm doing, I say that it's hard but that I was lucky to have her for so long - but the truth is, I'd like to tell them I feel like shit, that my heart is broken and wasn't ready to stop making memories with her. Of course, then I feel selfish because I realize she was 86 and that she did live a very full life, and believe me I'm grateful for that, but that just doesn't seem to matter to my heart right now. It hurts like crazy and wishes she had 96 or 106 years like I would have bet my life savings she would have.

I keep trying to find comfort in something the Minister said. He said that the grief that we're all feeling, the heartache - that's the price we pay for loving someone. It's so true and surprisingly comforting for me. When I cry, when I don't feel like doing anything but curling up on the couch with the blanket she knitted me, I think of those words. I feel this way because I loved her so much. I'm paying a relatively small price right now in exchange for 34 years of loving my Gram.

I think this week is just getting to me more than I anticipated, everything moved so fast last week there wasn't much time to catch your breath. So, now that I'm back home it's just been a little bit of a rough adjustment. I'll be okay, though, I'm just paying the price for love and it's a price I'd pay a million times over for the time I spent with my Grandma. Just don't be suprised if you ask how I'm doing and I tell you the truth....

Hopefully I will return to unregularly scheduled happy blogging sometime in the near future. For now, please excuse this downer post, but this is a good outlet for an emotional Jones like me, too bad I didn't get more of those Schubert genes... Grandma would probably be mad at me for being this much of a downer. She'd tell me turn off the Josh Groban and pull myself together. So, I'm going to try that, I'll let you know how it's going next week.