more on loss, beating it to death

The last morning I was at my grandmother's house I woke up early, early. I could no longer sleep, could not stop thinking about my grandmother, saying goodbye to her home and walking away. I got up and showered and dressed and went out to "be with her" in the early morning. I took these pictures. I love the eerie quality of these pics. I was out under her old live oaks, looking at the River and the last sunrise there. I was thinking how much i wanted to know she was there with me, when Lafitte, her old tomcat mosied out of the bush and sauntered over to me. in his oh-so-cool way, he let me know we were both looking for Merner. Then he saw the crabs on the pier and shot off for a quick breakfast. :) I know they are dark, but they are still beautiful images to me.

Yesterday was the one month anniversary of my grandmother's death. I have been immersed in so much, I have not been able to deal with the details as I would have liked. She was such a bigger than life idol to me, and she is lost to me now too.

I am dealing with a lot of guilt, so much. I loved her dearly and being the stoic bitch I am, never told her enough how much I loved or moreso, respected her. I never got around to mailing the two letters I'd written her, never got around to getting those German candies out to her, never got around to making sure she knew she hung the moon.

I look at the items of hers I have gained. Beautiful items. Treasures, every single one of them. My ex husband said it the best, "Everything that woman owned had a memory wrapped up in it." He's right. So I look at the chest I was given. It's so gorgeous. It's as precious to me now as it was the first time I laid eyes on it. I told her it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, she said "When I die it's yours." So she died, and it's mine. Suddenly, there is this crushing weight and terrible burden that comes with inheriting. I have something that she treasured with me for always. What if something happens to it? What if I don't do right by her memory? What if somewhere down the road, someone in my family gets rid of it, never knowing she loved it so, and I loved it so...?

My heart hurts to know I own her things, because I can never have her again. For now, my glass is half empty. I know eventually again, it will become half full.