The Matriarch of My Family Died
I was kneading dough for brunch the day after Thanksgiving when my mom called with the news. "She’s gone." That was all she had to say. I murmured my condolences to my mother, who just lost her mother, then I hung up the phone, ran to my room, crumbling onto the bed. I was shocked at the level of grief that hit me like a giant wave, making an impact with my childhood memories. Mixing up my recollections of Alaskan summers, seafood feasts, boat rides in the rain, family fights, and so much more. I knew this day was coming, she was ill for a while before she finally let go. So why wasn't I more prepared? I guess you can never be prepared for how grief will run through you, stealing your resolve and courage. “Were you close with your grandmother?” My therapist asked me a couple weeks later when I was still trying to process the enormity of my grief. The answer is a resounding no. Not recently, and I am not sure I ever was extremely close to her. In fact, I have not even sp...