Appreciating It All

The wound of grief can reopen at the oddest times, and feel as raw as the day that it first occurred. A thought, a memory, a smell, a moment, something that pulls the trigger, and you feel the pain again. I suppose the occurrences actually lessen over time, but that thought makes me sad as well. I don't want to deal with grief, yet the absence of grief means that I am moving on in my life, without that person in it. Today, I had to take my maternal grandmother to the doctor, it was more a precautionary trip than anything, as she recently got a green light regarding the healing of wounds on her legs. But today, they were leaking fluid again, and I wanted to make sure we weren't heading down the path of infection again.  As I was driving her, I kept looking at her in my passenger seat, in between our chatting, she sort of dozed while she was awake, if that makes sense.  She was very tired.  I was keenly aware that not that long ago I was taking my paternal grandmother around in that same seat, and now I don't anymore.  It was one of those moments where I realized, I was taking for granted having my maternal grandma with me.  We weren't really saying anything important, we were just together in companionable silence for a lot of the trip. I don't know why we do that, take the ones we love for granted, but we all do, every single day. I had this moment of feeling like every conversation I have with my grandma should be meaningful, but I know it won't be, because that is just the nature of life, I suppose.

As all these thoughts ran through my head, the realization hit me hard that I missed things about my paternal grandmother that I never really appreciated as much before she died.  She had the prettiest eyes. Blue, sometimes gray, but they were beautiful.  And I miss her smile.  The one she had when she wanted to enter a conspiracy with me, a conspiracy to get donuts, or to go get coffee, or some other special little treat.  When she smiled like that, it was genuine, and it was fun.  And until recently, I never realized how the absence of these things would make parts of life seem so empty.

I wish it didn't take loss to wake us up to the blessings that we have everyday. Especially the ones that sometimes seem mundane or chore-like. And when grief is fresh, our appreciation is fresh, and then we get lulled into that false sense of security that we and our loved ones are untouchable.  Since I am human, I can't promise that I will always get it right, but I know I need to see each daym each moment, with the people I love as a gift.  Even the lousy moments.