I can be slow at processing emotions, and that can be doubly difficult when those around me are actively experiencing theirs. With the passing of my Grandmother, I’ve been around many highly emotionally charged people but haven’t really felt any of my own.

I don’t know if it is just a processing delay, or my need to be the rock and support those going through a crisis, but I haven’t had an experience of emotional release as I have in previous situations. I don’t know when it will hit me emotionally that my grandmother is dead, but to look around and see everyone dealing with their grief, and knowing that I haven’t felt the raw emotions that I know they are going through, it leaves me feeling a bit disconnected. Disconnected from myself. Disconnected from those around me. I know that no one wants to see me struggle with grief, but I also think people worry when someone doesn’t, for any reason, feel their emotions and then heal. On top of that, it is sometimes easier for others to share their grief when someone’s emotions mirror their own. I don’t want my family to feel like they can’t come to me to be a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen just because I’m blocked in some way.

I sometimes wish that I had been able to see my grandmother’s body. To force my brain to know that she is dead because my mind still won’t actually accept her passing. I am embarrassed to say that I didn’t see my grandmother very often over the last five or more years. As her health problems grew, my visits spread apart more and more. I was frustrated with her decline. I wanted my grandma back from when I was a kid, a teen, or even a young adult. So in my mind, seeing her irregularly is entirely normal. I keep thinking that in a few more trips to Kingston, she will be there, welcoming me into her home, her high-pitched “Hello” calling me in to give her a hug while she sits in her comfortable recliner watching the Discovery channel.

On May 7th, there will be a Celebration of Life for my grandmother in Kingston. We will place her ashes below the sapling of a tree that will be nourished by her remains. I am hopeful that the event will allow my mind to move into grief, feel the loss of my grandma, and allow me to heal and adjust to the new reality rather than whatever it is trying to do now. The idea and her hope, for the event, was that we would all come together and talk positively about the time we had with her. That we would share images from her life, and walk away feeling blessed having known her. I am sure that some of my family will be ready to reminisce in a much more positive way by May, but I doubt I’ll be the only one still struggling with my emotions.