One year...

It has been a year since my grandmother passed away. So long, and yet barely any time at all. With each day that passes, I find it easier to cope with the pain, I remember the good times, and I barely cry in public any more.

Why is it then, that society expects today to be the day I cry the most? Logically, if it gets a little easier to cope as time goes on, then a year later should be a day when I cry less, not more. It doesn't work like that though, emotions don't follow logic, and triggers like anniversaries bring it all to the fore again.

I miss her so much, I wish more than anything that I could still pick up the phone and speak to her again, even just once, to say:

"I love you Ouma and I miss you now more than ever."


Happier Times