she’s gone and my world becomes a small comfortable bubble of washing dishes, making phone calls, giving hugs. things are simple again. relationships are pure and strong. the people who care are right there with help, the rest fades away. no mess. life is black and white - it’s grieving and comforting - it’s sorrow and hope - it’s washing dishes and making phone calls.
the relationship to a grandparent is a strange one. there is a difference between knowing who a grandparent is to you, and who they have been. grandparents are known by their grandchildren at the end of their journeys – not as small children, or college wallflowers, or tennis champs, or young mothers with smooth skin and quick hands.
grandchildren should be more humble. they fit into the end of the intricate lives of their grandparents and are lucky to witness what they do.