Time Goes On

Death and grief go hand in hand when the person that has passed means so much to so many people. As sad as it is to say, not everyone's death has the same meaning, even within the same family. My grandmother was the cornerstone to everything. No matter how far away anyone moved,no matter who was having an argument with whom, as long as she was around, we would all come together, put aside our differences, and be a family. With her passing, everything has changed.

Moving states away from those you love can be difficult. For me it wasn't too hard since I was moving to be with the love of my life. I still visited once or twice a year for holidays, and kept in contact through social media. I talked to them about the same amount as when I lived closer. All family get-togethers would be at my grandmother's house. It wasn't the biggest, or the most centrally located, it was just where everyone felt like it was home. Food would fill all the counter spaces, there would always be something cooking on the stove. Sweet tea was constantly having to be made. As you made your way into the living room, the kids would be playing with things that had been around for generations, and a few adults would be passed out on a couch or in a chair. And there would be my grandmother, in the middle of everything making sure everyone was happy and had everything they needed.

It is crazy how things can suddenly change overnight. She was perfectly fine the night before, then she wasn't able to breathe normally and had to be taken to the hospital. Test after test, and she just kept getting worse. Finally we get an answer, and it's not good. She will never get better. Her body will slowly shut down until one day it gives up. Machines and medicine can help for a while, but all they can do is make sure she is in the least amount of pain as possible.

Living so far away, I felt the guilt of not being able to help. I had started my own family and had little ones. They hadn't visited much, and had no idea who any of my family really was. They won't have the same memories as I do growing up surrounded by five generations of people enjoying each other's company. They won't hear the stories from a time they could never imagine.

I would be updated with an occasional phone call or text. Until towards the end, when nothing changed and all we could do was wait. I almost wasn't able to see her one more time. We made plans to visit, and the next day she was back in the hospital. She was a strong woman and didn't let it stop her from seeing us one more time. I was able to visit her, but not my kids. She could see pictures, but it wasn't the same as being able to hug and touch them. We put off going back home as long as possible. Right before we were going to make the drive back, she was able to come home. My kids were given the chance to see her for what we all knew would be the last time.

With tubes, machines, and an oxygen tank connected to her, we had to be really careful and try our best to explain to two toddlers why they couldn't hang all over grandma. She got to hug them, talk to them, and do everything she could to enjoy their presence one last time. They had no idea of the significance of what was happening, but all of us around them did.

That was the last time I saw her. Her health quickly deteriorated after that and soon all she could do was lay in bed. Her body lost the capability of speech, then movement. The texts I would get from her stopped. I would still send pictures and hope that someone was showing them to her. When the news came that she had passed away in her sleep, all I could do was cry. I wasn't able to go to her funeral, I felt like there wasn't a form of closure.

While my kids were in school, I would be able to head to the beach. Find a quiet spot, and just sit and reflect. I didn't want to be stuck in the house. I didn't want to be on my phone where I could still go to see the last communications I had with her. I only wanted to allow my mind to drift away and not think about anything.

Sitting on the hit sand, looking out into the ocean, I could see ships going across the horizon. I didn't know how far away they were, but their movements were really slow. Sometimes it would seem like they weren't moving at all. I had something I could focus on that was meaningless. I didn't know anyone on those boats, I couldn't even tell you what kind of ships they were.

Every weekday, I would go back. I would sit in the same spot and watch the boats as they went about their day. In my mind, I would make up stories about what they could possibly be doing. An older gentleman, recently retired spending his days on the water. A young woman celebrating her 21st birthday with all her friends on a yacht. A cruise ship making its way along the east coast with all its passengers partying, gambling, and enjoying the sun. Every day, I would think of something new.

Then one day, there were no more ships. No more stories for me to think up. Nothing out on that large expanse of water to keep my mind off of reality. I sat there a while, wondering if one would suddenly appear. It never did. I had to leave to go get the children from school. When I left, I reflected on what it could possibly mean.

Of course, the simple answer is there weren't any ships out that day. No hidden meaning behind it. Just no one was out there. But I had given those ships a purpose besides the obvious. They had helped me when nothing else would. Time had passed, and everyone moves on. I needed to as well.