Time Heals

Update:
I originally published this post on my grandmother's birthday going on three years ago.  I find it funny that I was surprised that after two months the pain of my grandfather's death was still there, was still fresh.  Almost three years later just re-posting about my grandfather's death on my new blog as I move everything over had me sobbing.  Even now re-reading this post, I can feel the tears running down my face.  I had no clue then how much my grandfather's death would change me, would define me.  I wasn't prepared for the deep depression it plunged me into that shattered my world and left me drowning in a sea of pain and sadness.  Almost three years later and the wounds still haven't healed.  I'm beginning to realize that maybe they never will.  True, I have more control of my emotions, I can hold back the tears if I need to, I can hide the pain, but the wounds are still raw.  Though they don't happen as frequently, there are still days when I hate myself for not having spent more time with him, that I blame myself for his death.  So much is an internal struggle, the desire to go visit his grave for the first time since he was laid to rest, yet not having the strength to make the trip on my own.  With the holidays coming up, I miss him even more and I find myself realizing that things are never going to go back to the way they were before his death, no matter how much I may want them to.

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You know so often we hear the phrase that time heals all wounds. I'm just beginning to learn how long that time is. It's been nearly two months since my grandfather passed away, yet the pain is still there. Pictures of him, songs that make me think of him, little things he gave to me, even thinking about him will still make me dissolve into tears. I've never known a pain like this before and there are still days when I ask God why He had to do this, or why He couldn't have at least chosen a different time. There are days that I still kick myself over and over again for not spending more time with my grandfather, still days that I think that it was all my fault, cause somehow I did something that caused all this to happen.

It all hit me pretty hard yesterday on my birthday. It was the first time in 20 years that I had not heard my grandfather's voice wishing me a happy birthday and telling me how fast I was growing up. It was also the first time that my birthday card was signed only by my grandmother. I can't even describe how much that hurt, how much my chest ached.

I had never understood how much it hurt to lose a member of your family until that day, and I certainly never understood how long it takes it heal, how long it takes for every little reminder to stop feeling like a knife in the heart. I never knew the physical pain it could cause, not just the mental.  I know that I still have a long way to go before the pain starts to go away, even a little bit, but I know that time and God will get me there.

This post was originally published on Friday, May 6, 2011.