Monday, I drove back home from my Grandma's and it gave me plenty of thinking time. Grandpa died two weeks ago and since I didn't make it to the funeral, I went for a visit after everyone had left.
Grandpa's funeral was the day after my grandparents' 62nd wedding anniversary. That blows my mind! I don't think I'll know anyone for 62 years, but to be truly and deeply committed to one person for that long? And to have it gone in a poof. I kept Grandma company, watching golf all day with her. Did you know that nearly every commercial during golf tournaments, is for either erectile dysfunction pills or financial planning?
We went to the graveyard to visit. The dirt was still cool and soft and the name plaque had not been put in place yet. Grandma was very upset because she wanted to put flowers in the little cup, but the cup is coming with the plaque. So I got down on my knees and dug a hole with my hands and planted the flowers. My tears dropped into the dirt and I felt sick. This was Grandpa's dirt and now it was stuck in my nails and the knees of my pants.
We tried to keep ourselves together for the rest of the weekend. I busied myself in her garden, I cleaned out Grandpa's truck. It smelled like skunk. Probably from the ranch, Grandpa loved that goddamn ranch and that's the place that led to all this. The morning I left, I lost it. I cried so hard, my grandma sobbed and we hugged tight for a long time. Grandma doesn't show much emotion so this was strange. Plus, she sure has shrunk. She had packed me a lunch (grandma's are awesome that way) and the 8 hour drive began.
Plenty of crying moments came and went, but there was one defining moment. There was an area that had chain controls. So here I am, driving 30 mph through the snow with chains on my tires. It was a nice distraction from my thoughts. Eventually, I took the chains off, and was driving in sunny weather surrounded by snow. A mom let her kid out on the side of the road to make a snow angel and I couldn't help it. A few yards down I pulled over so I could make one too.
As I laid on my back in the cold snow, I stared up to the sky and wondered if this is why people believed in God. When you imagine the dead, living on somewhere nice, it is strangely comforting. I tried to imagine how different I would be feeling if I believed in God. Would it hurt this bad? Would I feel this disconnected? The cold air was building up and starting to sting my tear-soaked cheeks. So I got up, dusted the snow off, and was back to driving.
3 comments:
Nikki - I am so sorry for your loss and your pain. This post was heartbreaking to read but yet, was beautiful in the way that you can express the breadth and depth of your feelings.
I am not the most religious person but I do believe in God. In my experience, it does not make it eaiser.....in fact, it makes is harder because you feel abandoned and betrayed. It is easy to fall into the mental trap that God doesn't let bad things happen and that if he loved us, we wouldn't be subjected to such pain and loss.
The trite phrases of "God only gives what you can handle" and "God has a bigger purpose" are awful because then you (the believer) feel bad for not "trusting" in God's plan or purpose.
So, no, believing in God does not make it easier. At least, not for me. I strive to be that person who really does believe that bad things happen for a purpose and that I *can* deal with it but I am so not there yet. And, I don't see me being there anytime soon.
Condolences to my loverly lady Nikki!
one of my favorite quotes:
"I still believe in God, but God no longer believes in me." - The Mission UK.
my grandfather died some months back. he was a drunk beat my grandmother up in the 50's and she divorced him.
my norwegian grandfather on my mom's side was a lot cooler than him and he died about 10 years ago.
the man that my grandmother married was a great man, he died about 15 years ago.
both of those men were amazing and my step grandfather was more of a grandpa to me than my blood dushane grandfather who only died recently.
sometimes the wrong people live too long and the right people die too soon.
i believe in God, i'm just going to suckerpunch him if there's a thing called an afterlife and i get an appointment with him.
i believe in God and i think he's a prick and he has some explainin' to do to justify this bullshit existence.
i've been working on a short story that god and the angels were bored, so they gave humanity the most fucked up scenario of an existence in order to have decent art galleries and music...b/c w/o pain, artists are pretty vanilla. would munch's 'the scream' exist if he wasn't stricken with panic attacks?
god needs an art gallery.
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