Nothing But Grief

Back in March, I mentioned that I wasn't all that scared of the coronavirus. Since then, my views have changed. Now I'm terrified of the virus. My beliefs slowly started changing as we came further down in the pandemic. What really pushed me off the edge was when the virus went after my family. This article will not be about my views on the pandemic; it will be about grief and the relationship I had with the person I lost. 

​On January 2, early in the morning, I received the shocking news that my grandmother had passed away due to coronavirus complications. I will not be sharing full details about how exactly she died because it's upsetting and may be triggering for some readers. 

When I first found out, I didn't have much of a reaction. I was in so much shock. We were all expecting her to survive. I was kind of in a frozen state of mind for about two minutes.

A big wave of emotion hit me rapidly after that. I began to cry softly, and seconds later, I was screaming on the floor. My heart had been shattered. 
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When my grandma was waiting to get her test, I felt like this would be the end. Everyone was acting like she was going to survive, yet I was never convinced. Her life had come close to ending a few times before, but I didn't have any sort of sense that she was going to die. She even had been tested for coronavirus before, yet for some reason, this one time, I had a gut feeling that this would be one to come back positive. 

After she got diagnosed, I think she knew that coronavirus would bring her life to a close too. Her gut was almost always right. Not to mention, the two of us had this telepathy type thing going on. Every time I would call her on the phone, I would get a busy signal because she would be trying to contact me at the same time. She always knew when something was wrong, even when I wasn't talking to her or in her view. I was the same way with her. 

The telepathy thing could have just been one big coincidence, but I don't think of it in that way. In a way, it's been helping me through this grief because I feel like she is still her communicating with me. Not exactly, but I know her well enough to know how she would react in certain situations. Of course, I would rather have her here with me in real life, but it's better than having nothing.

My grandmother was my number one best friend. She was always there for me. She believed in me since the day I was born, she listened to all my secrets, gave me the best advice, and loved me unconditionally. She was so much more than just a grandma. She was the heart of my soul.

Mom said she always dreaded the day she died. She always knew it would cause me so much pain. Dad was nervous to tell me because he watched the two of us bond like no other.

It's hard on them too, but mostly for my dad. He had grown up with her by his side, and he was close to her as well. It hurts mom to see us in so much pain. 
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My aunt had gone to her apartment to pick up photo albums. She found five of them filled purely with me, no one else, just me. It made me happy because I had someone whose love for me was unbreakable. Thanks to her, I have become the person I am today. It also made me sad because all of that is gone. The chances of somebody else viewing me in the way that she did are very slim.

My immediate family and I didn't go to the funeral due to the pandemic, and it was states away. If we lived closer, we probably would have gone. I was okay with not going because I didn't want to see her resting. I found it traumatizing when I saw my grandfather after he left this world five and a half years ago. I cannot even imagine how much loss I would experience if I saw my best friend in the same state. 

I also don't think it's her. I mean, it technically is her, but not all of her. It's her body, but not her personality. Who she was as a person is not there anymore. 

Instead of going to the funeral, my dad and I spend an hour talking about her. It was doing the same time as the funeral. He told me stories about her life and showed me the houses, places she worked, and schools she went to on google maps. He also showed a picture of what her car looked like back when he was a child. 

During the late summer or early fall/autumn, my whole family will get together to celebrate her life. My brother is going to sing a song for her, and I will write something special. For now, there's not much we can do as a group because of the pandemic. A lot of us are more worried about getting it. We've been affected once, and we don't want it to happen again.

I've lost a handful of other loved ones in my life, but this hurts the most. Very few people understand this level of grief I'm going through. They can't relate. The relationship I had with my grandma was scarce. Most grandkids don't bond with a grandparent to the same extent that I did. Not only that, but my autism makes me mourn differently, too. I can't stop thinking about her. Whatever you imagine what's going on in my head, it's probably more painful than that.

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Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash