I burned the back of my hand with a curling iron while getting ready for my grandfathers funeral. Four months later, I still have a dime-sized scar plastered to the middle of the back of my left hand like a bullseye. The mark has faded over time and so have my episodes of sadness. I anticipate that the summer sun will help the dark scar blend into the rest of my skin as if the sun will remove the sadness of death by tanning my pale skin.
Myself, like my hand, has healed as well as my family. With the help of those closest to me I have learned the deal with grief-
When you lose a grandparent, or anyone for that matter, people say that that person stays with you "in spirit". I believe that to a certain extent. I also believe that a lost loved one's entire life and experiences shaped them and in turn has shaped their friends and family just by association. So when I say I lost my grandfather, it means not just that "heaven gained an angel" or "he will Rest In Peace" or "he will always be in our hearts" or whatever Facebook caption you want to throw out there. It means that I feel like something is missing from me. It means that I have an empty space in my brain that used to know and love a living human being. It means I gained something from my relationship with my grandfather, and when he passed away, I lost the ability to further that learning. Everyone can relate to the sadness and disappointment in that loss.
After months of thinking about him, I've realized that losing my grandfather also means that I am learning to replace my memory of a man with my understanding of his spirit and great wealth of knowledge that he bestowed on so many. I can learn from the stories I've heard about him, and the belongings and pictures he left behind for his family. I can also deepen my relationships with my cousins, aunts, uncles, parents, and grandparents that he loved so much and provided for so graciously. Through this reflection, the loss and grief of death almost instantly turned to love and understanding of others. I have taken the hole that was left by his death, and fill it with the belief that new experiences, new babies, new love, and new knowledge surrounding my family will continue to enrich my heart and mind everyday.
In this loss, I find the importance of those close to me, and like the scar on my hand, the pain fades, but the mark remains.
The experts say that grief completely changes a person and it is a long process. I know this is especially pertinent to my nana and my aunts and uncles who are coping with the logistics as well as the emotions of losing someone in their everyday life. I feel the pain on a lesser scale, but I feel it, and I am changed by it.
My scar will fade this summer, it will reappear next winter, and the cycle will continue just as the grief waxes and wanes in each individual in my family. I feel forever changed by this loss as does the skin on the back of my hand, but I am encouraged. I think that's the deal with grief; It's transformative and sad, but, for me, it has made me a better person.
