To my grandmother

To my grandmother,

It has been two weeks, three days, and seven hours since you left.
It has been two weeks, four days, and 18 hours since you whispered "love you" to me last.
In that two weeks I have learned my first hard lesson in grief. In these weeks and days I have learned what it is to exist in a world without the woman who held my peaceful place, my home in her heart and her smile and her endless and unconditional devotion.
I know it was time to say goodbye, and I won't lie, my first feeling was one of relief that you were no longer suffering, because I thought to see you in pain was the worst possible feeling in the world, I told myself, that you were already gone in so many ways that I was prepared for the loss.
I was wrong.
Even when you could no longer tell us all the things you wanted to say, you showed us, you laughed with us, you lit up with visible joy when we visited, you were still trying to feed me, even when you couldn't walk without assistance, you were still trying to care for US when it was our time to care for you. You were still very much here, until the very end, even if your stories were only in our memories, your living room, your smile, was still my favorite home.
In these weeks I have had time to relive every time I disappointed you, time to relive every time I may have hurt you, I can only hope I made up for those times. I have had time to wonder if we told you we loved you and appreciated you often enough, if I told you how much you really taught us, how much of who I am would not be, if not for you.
When I went to see you that last night, I had driven home with all of these things I felt a burning need to tell you, but when I was finally in that room, all I could think to tell you was that I loved you and it was ok for you to go.
I thought that I knew grief when Poppy went, but I didn't, because as long as I had you, I still had part of Poppy too.
It comes in waves, I can be ok for moments, and then it will hit me, again. A chapter of my life, your life, our time together, is over, forever. You won't be in that chair with a smile for me, you won't insist I eat before I leave, you won't tell me how much Noah looks like my dad again, you won't ask where my mother is, or who made me boss, again.
In all of our years together, I only saw you cry the day that Poppy died, so I can only imagine how you'd shush us and tell us to stop carrying on, so I'll do my best not to cry too much, and drink a highball in your honor while I bake the best cookies the world has ever known.
I hope, wherever you are, you can see how much we miss you and know the impact you had in all of our lives. The hole you left will never be filled, but we will do our best to make you proud.
Rest well, balmy, you deserve it.