Grappling with Grief: Entry from my Journal

This is an entry from my personal journal I wrote a couple nights ago.  I think it accurately paints the picture of my grief right now.  Usually, I don't post things of this personal nature (entries from journals and such), but I feel that it's therapeutic to get it out there and might also be how other people feel after losing someone.  Maybe they can help me with my grief, or I can at least make them feel not alone.

Saturday, March 25th, 2016

"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.'  I do not agree.  The wounds remain.  In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens.  But it is never gone." -Rose Kennedy

I sit here in the silence of Granny's house, but her memories echo all around me.  Everywhere I look, I see a piece of her.  This longing, this pain, this realization she's not coming back is beginning to be deafening.

I talked to Leah for  long time tonight.  We both miss her so much (as does the entire family).  However, Leah and I have grieved in different ways.  Her's has been a steady sadness, tears everyday.  Mine has been halted - a dam of stone built, though sadness, guilt, grief, anger, and such continue to rush against it, the levee hasn't broken yet.   It has been built with feelings of anxiety and fear over future decisions.  Leah reminded me tonight that before anything can happen, I must deal with and face those emotions rushing against the barricade.

Granny is woven into me.  Going through some of her things - the woman kept everything - reminds me of my stashes.  My refusal to throw away sentimental objects.  The way I think, the way I want to be, my acts, everything that I do is because who she was.

Even though I love being here surrounded by her things, it's hard to see all her memories.  Her shoes are left where she last put them on (stockings inside).  Her notes, her magazines - tabs marked with recipes and ideas - , her photos, her clothes, everything shows me a fresh memory.

I know that eventually the scar tissue will cover these new wounds, but right now...in this moment...they ache with a painful freshness that I can't bear.