Saturday / November 28, 2020
I struggled to feel anything properly. I’ve struggled to write about anything besides my grandma. I struggled to express myself in any way, shape or form. Sometimes it seems like I’m not able to feel joy anymore. I struggled to stand on my feet. I struggled to do anything. I’m constantly looking for signs that she’s somewhere around. When I’m having a hard time, I ask her to shine some light on me; and it somehow gets easier. Is it her? Is it my imagination? I really don’t know. After my grandma passed away, chaotic things happened; one thing after another. In a year and a half, I lost more people than I ever thought I could. I lost my grandpa not so long ago too. The rest I lost due to lack of respect, compassion, support. Thankfully, they’re alive and maybe some day, we’ll find a common ground. I still have lots of love for them. It’s so hard, but I try to hold on to what she always used to tell me: You are so sweet. You are so smart. You are so capable. My grandma was my support system since I was a little child. They told me I was a complicated kid in my early childhood. I was just too curious. I asked too many questions. No one wanted to deal with me, besides my grandma who would take me by the hand and take me to her garden where she would show me her tomatoes, her cucumbers, her onions. I was fascinated by it all because growing up in a city, I had never seen how fruits and vegetables grow. She would take me to her little farm and tell me about her cows Lara and Balusha and how she feeds them. How come I was not a complicated child when I was with my grandma? My grandma and I just knew how to understand each other. I refused to go to sleep with anyone else but her. I grew up and became a good student, a non problematic child, a polite and kind human being who constantly tries to do and be better and my grandma never neglected that. In an environment where I got criticized for every little thing about me, my grandma was the only one to remind that there was nothing wrong with me. My grandma was magical. And I miss her dearly, every single day. It never gets eaiser, you just learn how to live missing people. I’m starting to feel other feelings other than sadness. I’m studying again, I’m getting out of the house. I’m trying not to get consumed by grief. I’m think I’m getting better in all areas of life. I became an aunt the other day. I felt joy, immense joy. I’m trying to find light. I’m trying to create something out of my life. Little by little. I’m not rushing anywhere. I’m learning to take my time and space without apologizing. I’m trying to find a way to live with my pain. I’ve found some kind of consolation in being grateful. I celebrate every little thing. I celebrate every exam that I pass. When I don’t pass, I’m grateful that I get to go to school, fail and take another exam. I celebrate every meal that comes out tasty. I celebrate my family, best friends and their growth. I celebrate everyone, even the ones who I no longer have a connection with. I’m rooting for everyone, like my grandma is rooting for me. Somewhere from afar, where I (you) can’t even see.