I no longer have any living grandmas.

Sabana, Ioline, and Nancy. (My father has a stepmother.)

Nancy went with God last week.

It’s taking me a while to even begin to process her death.

Outside of telling people that she passed, I don’t think I’ve dealt with it.

I’ve told people, but I haven’t really told myself.

And this is what tells me that some emotions can be communal. For me, grief is one.

I’ve never had to deal with grief alone, and this time I do.

So I won’t. I won’t let my mind drift there. I don’t have the proper safety net of family and hugs from my parents to do it.

And it’s weird. I haven’t cried about the news until this very moment. Until writing this and exploring how much I’ve ran away from the grief.

So excuse me if I seem fine. But I have to delay the process.

Because this feeble heart can’t handle the process of grief alone.

My siblings and I each have our own grandmas. And Nancy is mine.

She would make me a mean breakfast with fruit salads of oranges, pomegranates, and star apples.

She would take care of me when I was sick.

We would listen to country gospels on WGOD while I waited for my dad to pick me up.

She would encourage me to be neat and lady-like and stop ramping so hard. (Major fail, but valiant attempt.)

She loved me, and I loved her.

But I just can’t seem to grieve her. Not yet and not alone.

Love you Gramma Nancy,
Amber