March 15, 2013 at 6:44 pm

Late last night I felt my grandma arrive quite suddenly in my bedroom in a moment of need.

I hadn’t asked for her. I didn’t know I needed her. But suddenly I felt her familiar warm and wonderful energy surround me. It surprised me and sent tears down my cheeks.

And then I wanted her physical presence, her warm body, her peaceful home, her hands and arms… so desperately. I spent the next while a mess of tears. I lay with my head on my husband’s lap, sobbing, while he stroked my hair. It brings these words from The Courage to Grieve  to mind: “Tolerating another’s tears is a very meaningful gift.”

I think Grandma lingered until she felt I was at peace again. Friends have told me that sometimes the grief will hit you suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. I get it.

It’s not that I wish she wasn’t dead. I’m glad she’s no longer in pain. I’m glad she’s with her parents, her brothers, her daughter, her friends, my brother. I’m glad she’s able to “be” with me anytime now. I suppose my grief is more a longing for the peace of the past… for the comforts of those years I spent in her care when the fears and worries in my heart didn’t feel so big. And I wish we could talk. I wish I could literally hear her.

But I’m so grateful she came. I didn’t even know I needed her last night, but she knew and she came.

I love you, Grandma.