As I write this, it's August 31, what would have been my grandma's 89th birthday. She passed away August 11. It's been interesting comparing the grief of that loss with the grief of the loss of my best friend Rebecca. When you lose someone young, it feels so wrong. And with my Gram, she lived a beautiful, long life; she was ready to go. I think what I've realized, at least for myself, is that so much of grief centers on the loss of the future vision you had for yourself and that person, the desire that you had for more time.
September 15 is also weighing on me; what should have been Rebecca's 41st birthday, the third one we've celebrated without her. To be honest, I'm quite tired and trying to get my feet back under me after the summer and then the quick trip to Ohio for my grandma's memorial service, and then the start of the new school year. Today instead of new words, I'm going to type out something I wrote in my journal the last time I saw Rebecca before she passed. It speaks to the loss of a future that you had imagined with someone.