Issue 10: Grief is Nonlinear
Grief is nonlinear
I have heard before that we don't really remember who a person was, so much as we remember how they made us feel. I have been in deep reflection about my grandmother Betty Remus's influence on my life, since she passed away last Wednesday night, January 24th. Her walk through death's door at nearly 98 has shaken me to my roots in a way that I could not have anticipated.
Every way that she impacted me came back to me, every moment with her or opening a letter or package or gift that she sent me, every visit, every phone call, every cookie she handed me flooded my memory. I was in overwhelm. I am still, in many ways, in overwhelm, as I look around and count the many ways that Grandma Betty is still in my life every day.
She always made a point to be a part of my life. From 3,000 miles away, as I grew up in New Jersey and she was in Fresno, California her whole life, she still made me feel loved.
"I miss seeing you!" she would write, "Give everyone a hug for me - yourself too. I love you, sweet girl, and it's a long time til September, but I'll be there! Much, much love, Grandma R."
Grandma Betty always wanted to know what I was interested in. She bought me an American Girl doll for Christmas one year, when our family was too poor to afford such an extravagant $100 doll. She sent me stamps for my stamp collection, from her own. She always loved owls, and as a result I adore them.
I love coffee, she loved coffee. She made beautiful quilts and I still have the blue bunny one, carefully kept and carted around with me for decades, that she sewed herself. I lay and played on that blanket as a baby.
My Grandma Betty has always been there. I cannot write this without tears forming. I have also heard that when someone passes away, all you remember are the good things. I know that when I was very young, she was not the most patient with me. She did believe in spanking, but to be honest I don't remember a lot of that. We left California when I was 6 years old, and still, the memories I have of her are mostly delightful.
I remember Christmas at her house. I remember the fireplace, and the kitchen where she was always baking cookies, and my mother's bedroom, and the mysterious, dark quiet of Grandma and Grandpa's bedroom (don't go in there, it's private!). I remember the green shag carpet and the long hallway that felt so big to race, play, and run around in. I remember the backyard, and the pool in the sun, and the little wooden playhouse.
I am absolutely blessed to have her vanity. I have sat in her chair this weekend and thought about how she sat in it, too. I have seen her owls in my home, that she gave to me, much like she gave me a love for so many things.
To wrap up, I just want to share something that my best friend from high school said to me recently, "Grief is nonlinear." I think that is very true. And so I let the waves of grief come, despite how overwhelming they feel. I let the joy visit. I let the memories marinate. I let the pain proliferate. For in that pain there is a deep love that did not break, even when she passed away. It is still there, and that is what I remember the most.
What about the Game Jam?
I am sad to say that I bowed out of the game jam this weekend because of how overwhelmed I was with this loss. It is still so fresh, and I knew that my threshold for social interaction and challenging situations was very low. It was a hard decision but I still have friends that want to follow through on the funny video game idea that we have. So please do stay tuned on that front, because there may be a web game in the works.
My world
So far I have three people committed to my BackerKit campaign. I am learning how to do this and I deeply appreciate everyone's following and support. BackerKit needs me to get more people to sign up and show interest in the campaign before they will let me launch. So if you could please send out this link to folks you know who are interested in art, printing, and poetry, it would be really awesome!
Thank you again so much for being here. It motivates me all the time to think about how I have your support and how I can share my life story with you.
Much love, and don't forget to drink your water today,
Coco