677 Days

It's been 677 days since my grandma left this earth. I deal with her death daily, so counting the months would not be accurate. Counting the years would make it seem too short, and measuring the hours would feel like an eternity. So from her funeral, May 5, 2020, to the present day, I chose to take it day by day.


I always felt like my grandma's prototype. It could be because I am compared to her alot or that I tried to be like her. Her strength was uncanny, her aura was royalty, and her heart was massive. She loved her family. She loved us so much through our lows and was always there to lift our spirits and was always there to celebrate us too. My grandma always has a way of making me feel so unique and pretty and, most importantly, capable. She told me to get my education, go after what I want, and be nice to "Darren" because he's a good one. She never pronounced my husband's name right, but he never complained or corrected her, one of the things I love about him.


My grandma was everyone's grandma, mother, sister, friend, or whatever you needed her to be. I tried to be everything to everyone, just like her, and that was easy until my everything was snatched from me on April 27, 2020. Ok, maybe not snatched because she was 99 years old, but if I'd had my way, she'd be alive until 200. The funny thing is she never wanted to grow old, and I understood her reasons, but I appreciate God keeping her here long anyway.


Strangely, I feel her as strongly from the other side as I did when she was alive. She cooks with me, cleans up with me, and still governs what I wear. I can still hear her influencing me to choose integrity over pettiness or anger when making a decision. When feeling down, I can still feel her around me and telling me I can say what I want and do what I want, lol. At times, I try to back down, and she still pushes me to stand up for myself.


On earth, my grandma made it to everything of mine whether she understood what was going on or not. I still feel her doing the same on the other side, and I still feel her rooting for me. I know there are prayers in my life that are still floating and waiting on me to make up my mind for them to come to fruition. Even with her presence felt, I'm greedy and wish I could hear her voice, hold her hand or watch Wheel of Fortune with her. Some days are full of great memories, and then some days, my chest hurt from missing her so much.


I know that giving up is not an option because she would never allow that. I know that I cannot allow people to make me feel away for too long because that's against what she's taught me. In my 20s and up, I wished I visited more or called more often. It was amazing that she never fussed at me, no matter how much or little I stopped by. Other people did, but she said she understood I was finding my way.


I was weird, fat, and awkward to most, but I was her "pretty girl." To date, when my invincibility is fading, I can hear her voice telling me, "we can't do that; we have to keep on pushing." She got me more than most, she understood me and let me be weird, and when others challenged it, she would defend it. I could continue with this post, and it would be an hour or more read. I know by ending this, these memories will tuck back in my mind, at least until I fall asleep, hopefully. Damn, I miss her (Grandma, sorry for cussing).

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