Learning.
If I write about losing my grandma, you might assume I’m drowning in grief. I’m not. I’m kind of okay.
If I don’t write about losing my grandma, you might assume I’m hard and calloused. I’m not. I think about her a lot.
I take cry walks at sunset. I try not to numb the pain.
I read books and light candles and laugh with my girls. I try not to overlook the joy.
At the end of the day, I whisper to Chad, “I don’t think I even know how to grieve.”
Maybe none of us do. Not until we have to.
And maybe there isn't a right way to grieve... its one time we have to give ourselves more grace than we ever had to before. When things don't make sense, when God doesn't even make sense, and I struggle to see how life can ever be righted again? There...God holds me..tenderly. lovingly, and with more compassion and understanding than is possibly from a human being. He's such a faithful, loving Father.
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