I was hunkered down into the snow, just waiting for someone to come and see me. To talk to me. To hug me. To keep me warm, and hold me and comfort me and never EVER let me go. But no one came. I sat there, in the three inch white powdery substance, and listened intently. My grandmother had always said that she’d always be with me no matter what. But I had just watched her casket being slowly lowered into the ground earlier this morning. I was in delirious disbelief. She was gone. My grandmother. Mine.
Cancer. The last time I had seen her was three months before she was diagnosed, and that was it. I couldn’t bear to watch my beloved comforter, my grandmother, slowly fall away from me. Too much pain. But as I sat in the snow, it seemed to be whispering to me. As if to say ‘its okay’. Winter was her favorite season. The wind seemed to be blowing harder now, more violently. More than once I remembered feeling a wrinkled hand on my shoulder. She’s saying goodbye, letting go.
I would remember her, always…