That’s how long it’s been since my Grandma died. I remember writing a post about it in this blog but I don’t remember it being a year ago. It feels closer. Just like she does.
I remember how everything about that day was wound around fate. Every single thing. “What if” is always at the tip of my tongue. I can’t forget a single moment. It played out like a movie and there we all were. There she was. Fate? I don’t know for sure. I don’t think that should be anybody’s destiny.
As I sit here, a million and a half kilometers away from my house, all I feel is sadness. She never wanted me or anyone to be a million and a half kilometers away. Never. That would mean she was alone and yes, she would be alone. But what she didn’t know is so would I. In a different way, but how can we say our sorrow is more important that anybody elses? That’s not true. If misery loves company, I wish I could be there.
Fate, what a silly, loaded word. What a silly, loaded world.
Rest in those golden meadows Gramps*.
(*We called her “gramps, even though it’s short from “grandpa”. We had seen it on this Cartoon Cartoons cartoon on Cartoon Network once in her house. Flashbacks. Got to hold on to them.)