Almost a month ago, I woke up to my roommates alarm and a message from my mom that said, "Call me as soon as you get this message. It's important". It was time stamped at 2 am. Immediately, I felt a rock drop to the bottom of my stomach - everyone knows that this kind of message couldn't be anything good. I waited two minutes until my roommate had left, and then I called my mom, who picked up right away, even though it had to be almost 4 am back in Washington. She then told me the worst news I've ever received.
Dealing with loss is something I've never really had to experience before - at least, not like this. I've experienced loss through friends, being there for them when they've lost a family member. But until now, my family was perfect and full of life. That being said, I was utterly shocked to find out that my grandfather had passed away.
Not my grandfather, I thought to myself. Memories came flooding back: my grandparents being at all my elementary school concerts, Christmases, weekends where they would watch me and my sister, family breakfasts, trips to everyone's favorite restaurant in town. Both of my grandparents are amazing and wonderful people, but I have always had such a special connection with Grandpa. As early as middle school, I easily considered him my favorite person. He was kind, hysterical, warm, caring, supportive, and one of the best people I have ever met (and might ever meet). Him and my grandma were married over 65 years, and together they made the perfect pair. Both of them wholeheartedly support me in my dreams and aspirations. Over Christmas, Grandpa had even taken to giving me the nickname, "Broadway Soph". He was a phenomenal human being and his absence leaves my heart with a huge hole.
I wasn't sure how to deal with the news. After finding out, I had to leave for meetings and classes all day. The entire situation felt surreal to me. Not only could I not imagine having Grandpa in my life, but I was so physically far away from my family that I was completely out of contact. To make me feel more isolated, I had lost my cell phone the day before, and it would be four days until I got one back. I was restricted to talking to my family only on my laptop, whenever I had the chance to pull it out. Of course, I was lucky to be able to talk to my family at all, but I couldn't help but feel like I was missing everything happening back at home. I couldn't see my extended family, I couldn't sit and cry with my mom and dad. I was stuck in a place where I needed to grieve but didn't know how to by myself.
The next two days, I walked around with a black cloud over my head and in my heart. I had told my closest friends at school, who were very kind about everything (I'm lucky to have such amazing friends at both of my homes), but nothing was quite the same as being around a person going through the exact same thing. Finally, on a Sunday morning, I found myself alone in my dorm room and was able to call my mom over Facebook Messenger. I spent two hours being passed around from family member, bawling my eyes out, talking about my favorite memories of my grandfather, how my grandmother was doing (she's an incredibly strong woman, and is truly inspiring). Getting to hear my mom and dad's voices helped me immeasurably. After letting out all the tears I had in me, I felt relieved and ready to accept the situation and figure out how to move forward.
Of course, that doesn't at all mean that I'm "healed". After a loss as great as this one, of a special family member, it's hard to imagine anyone is fully "healed". I also know that whenever I go home next, I will likely have to grieve a second time. Being at school and being home are two very different dynamics, so it makes sense that seeing my family will most likely change how I felt about the situation. At the bottom line, though, I know that whatever will happen in the future, I will get through it. Grandpa will always and every day be sorely missed, but I know that he would not want me (or anyone else in my family) to let his absence stop everything in our lives. The black cloud that I experienced that weekend, the constant dread and sadness, isn't something that lasts forever. It's a part of grieving, but it's only a part.
I can't accurately express how much I loved my grandpa, and how thankful I am that I was able to have him in my life as long as I did. Many of my friends have lost their grandparents long ago, and I am truly blessed to have had them around growing up. I know that, somewhere, he would be proud of me, and my family. I see him everywhere - in waffles, our family's signature food, in other family members, and in the theaters and the city skyline he always told me I'd end up in. And that's probably the biggest lesson I've learned about loss: A person is never truly gone.
Lots of love,
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