What I Wish I Would've Done

Everyone handles grief differently. I would say I hold it at a distance, tolerating it in small spurts. My Great-Grandmother Donna Langdon died recently. Although I only knew her for a short time (being reunited 6-7 years ago after being adopted), I find myself missing her.

I handle death in a very meticulous way. First, I being to tell myself that it will soon happen, sometimes preparing many, many years in advance. I have done this with my grandparents, and I did this with my great-grandmother. Some people say they "don't think about it," but I'm the opposite...I understand it as a normal part of life, I forewarn myself of it's pending coming, and gently remind myself every so often so I can figure out the best way for me to handle the situation.

This may seem morbid to you, or insensitive even. Truth is, if I don't think about it, plan on it, I'm not sure how my grief process would end up. For me, death is the ultimate separation in this life. I've already experienced being separated from my birth parents, which was a great loss for me, and I've experienced being separated/estranged from my adoptive parents, which makes the grieving process over their future deaths a little more bearable. Death is real people, it's normal! Just like poop, menstruation, and sex...things we turn our noses up at if someone dares to talk about it in public. Just because this is my way of preparing for death doesn't mean I am wishing ill or wishing death on anyone. I am simply protecting myself from...well, myself. From the "not knowing" how I may react to a separation I'm not prepared for. I feel it would be quite traumatic.

I had prepared myself for my Grt-Grandma's passing months ahead, perhaps a year or two ahead. She was in her 90's, witty, smart, but slow, using a walker, having a shake or "bob" to her head, and had fallen ill in the last few months. I told myself to call her sometimes, but I never managed to find the "right time." I told myself to make the trip home to visit her, but I could never find the energy or the extra gas money. Oh, the things I could've done, from sending a "thinking of you" card, to sending pictures of the family....the one thing I did was pay off a copay from a medical bill that was due. That was how I helped.

I'd like to blame it on my lifestyle, say I was too busy, say how ashamed I am that I didn't take the time to be more involved in her last days. But I know exactly why I "never found" the ways to do it. My grieving process had already begun, by separating myself from her, her illness, her frailty, her loss of independence. Granted, I wish I was more personable when I sense death, but I withdraw so as not to incur any surprises.

This life is comprised of being born, living, and dying. The next life is supposed to be a life where none perish, where none are sick, or depressed, or sad. The next life is the one I want to get to. I am relieved for those who get to move on, and leave this world, because they won't experience the sadness that this world often has to offer. They get to really rest, to really take a break before living forever.

To my Great-Grandmother, I will always cherish how bright and pleasant you always were whenever I saw or talked to you, the way you always said "Love ya!" at the end of the few phone convo's we had, or when leaving the Christmas Party, or when leaving a visit. How simple you were, not full of drama or crankiness or scatter-brained, but composed and always knowing what was going on and smiling in spite of it. I'm glad we got the few years to see each other that we did. I hope you understand why I wasn't there, but know that you were in my heart and mind often. I am confident that I will see you again, and then I won't have to worry about preparing myself for the next separation. I really did love you, and I know you loved me. Thank you.

Monica