Dealing with loss is hard.
When you hear the news it hits you but not so much. You’re hurting but not so much. You shed a few tears but not so much.
When the burial comes and you’re dancing with the fam the thought of why you’re dancing threatens to bring the tears but you don’t let it out. You dance and laugh and smile instead because that is better.
You think you’ll see her body and then the reality will come crashing down and you will wail for years. But it doesn’t happen. You don’t see her body. You only see a part of her legs in the coffin and before you can process that reality someone snaps you out of it by sending you on an errand for something you don’t remember nor can’t find.
And then one day when everything is over and you’re scrolling through pictures on your phone you see a picture of her and it’s like a dam is let loose. It suddenly feels real that you’ll never hear her laughter, never see her smile or hear her call your name.
You’ll never sit with her on her spring bed or eat her afang soup or afia efere. You’ll never have her dash you money or tell you to be serious with school. You’ll never hear her complain of her limbs or pray for you.
Then it hits you that your grandma is gone.
But even then, it still doesn’t fully hit you.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
Maybe if it does you’ll never be able to take another step.
Maybe that’s your brain and mind looking out for itself.
Maybe that’s just how life is.