Letters to Grandma

Whether or not we like to admit it, grief and sorrow is just as normal and if not more prevalent than optimistic feelings at times. At some point in our lives, we will grieve the loss of something- whether it be the end of a relationship or the loss of a loved one. Learning to embrace grief and all of the emotions associated with it is a daunting task. We set for ourselves high standards with how we assume we will go through difficult times; we hold in our tears as someone asks us how we’ve been doing; and we muffle our sobs with our pillow so we can hide our pain from our roommate. 

At the end of the day, we would rather appear put together and poised than admit our vulnerabilities. Because grief is nonlinear, we process our emotions as they go up and down, and beat ourselves up when we have a cloudy day after a few sunny ones. 

Last April, I lost my Grandmother, Peaches. She suffered a stroke randomly, and a week later passed. It happened all so quickly, and I didn’t process her death nor did I want to show my true emotions in front of anyone. That was the worst thing I could have done for myself. Allowing all of your emotions to come to surface enables a cathartic experience which in return helps you grieve and ultimately heal from a traumatic experience- tending to your wounds and ripping off the dead tissue. Below are a few “conversations” that I had in my mind that I should have written down for Peaches once she passed. Grieving is what you make of it, so try to make it about being honest to yourself so you can genuinely heal from what has broken you. Here are my conversations with Peaches: 

Image Courtesy: Katherine Stegall-Williams

A week has passed, and I don’t even want to go to class anymore. I have no energy. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to do this anymore. Bradley held me as I cried in his arms; I wish you were the one holding me. I wanted you to scratch my back like you did when I was little. But that will never happen again. 

I ask God why now. Why, with only a few months before the wedding? You were so excited to see my dress, and I was giddy to show you. I don’t know if you could hear me when I was telling you in the hospital, but I’m having the groomsmen wear tan suits with green ties. Everything is going to look so beautiful. Malayna said we would do something for you during the wedding, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it together if that happens. 

I feel guilty admitting this, but I didn’t think about you as much as I thought I would during the wedding. Maybe that’s a good thing; maybe it means I’m healing. Is that wrong of me? Am I a horrible granddaughter? I was so nervous the entire time I think that may be why. I wore the green emerald you gave me; dad made it into a necklace. You were close to my heart the entire time. I looked for you in the crowd during the ceremony, but didn’t see you. 

I was going through my camera roll and came across some old pictures of us. You really did love being our grandmother; you really did love coming to Tennessee. I wish I could have understood that when you were still here. I would love to have one last hug with you. 

I feel guilty- guilty because I feel like I didn’t say ‘I love you’ enough or spend enough time with you when you were in town. I was so young and caught up in my own world that I forgot you were one of the best parts of it. I know you wouldn’t think the same as me right now. I guess my mind is my worst enemy for now. 

Bradley’s been the biggest help through this all. I know you loved him. I remember when you first met him and told me, ‘well, if you don’t marry him, I will,’ and it still makes me smile. I’m so thankful he got to meet you before you passed. Bradley loves you so much, and I can tell he’s holding in his emotions to help me. We all miss you. 

I’m in my last semester, and I know you were so excited to see me graduate. I know you’re looking down on me. I know you’re in my heart. Thanksgiving and Christmas are going to be emotional this year; I hope I can get through it. We’ll save you your usual seat next to the Christmas tree. I can’t wait for you to see me get my diploma. 

I love you forever. I know where you have gone from this earth, and I will see you soon. 

With love, 

Your granddaughter, Kate. 

Image Courtesy: Katherine Stegall-Williams

Strike Out,

Katherine Stegall-Williams