A few years ago, my Grandmother passed away. I remember sitting at the funeral. I remember hating it. I remember looking around the crowd of seated people, mere acquaintances of my Grandma who I loved with a passion, and I remember feeling so angry. I remember looking at their faces staring blankly ahead, the small connections that they might of had with her. They were friendly neighbors or saw her in passing in the small Iowa town where she had lived. I wanted to sit next to them and not just tell them how much pain I was in but physically show them. I wanted to rip out my heart and lay it in their hands and say see this, see how much it hurts. Please feel how much this hurts, please fix this, please take this away. Instead, I sat there watching them, watching how they yawned, paid their respects and left, while I ached to have her hug me and tell me things were going to be ok, while I would have given up half of my life to have five more seconds with her.
I feel that now. I feel the same aching pain. I feel as if life should stop. I feel as if the world should stop spinning, now, this very second. I feel like the earth should not and cannot possibly continue on without him. How could it? How could this world possibly survive without him? How can these cars drive by my apartment, how can my upstairs neighbor's phone ring, how can I continue to breathe?
The constant message that my mind keeps going back to is, I don't understand. I don't understand. The logical part of my brain tells me that people die, it's a part of life. The child in me responds with, I don't understand. I can't wrap my mind around death. I can't fully contemplate how one ceases to exist. I don't understand. I don't understand.
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