I didn’t write about it when it had passed, probably because I was too consumed by its presence. But my grandma died right in front of my eyes a little over a year.
Death has always been a familiar thing.
I’ve known grief and I’ve known sorrow, and longing for those who have left me far too early. However I’ve also been lucky enough to receive signs that they’re still with me.
I’ve always believed that when someone dies they’re capable of showing you they’re still with you in certain ways. Like if you had a certain song you listened to together it might come on at a moment you really need it once that person is gone. It’s happened to my mom and I several times throughout our lives. It’s amazing really.
My grandma was the most recent immediate family member to pass. It’s been a really, really difficult grieving process for my family.
My grandma, the tiny, little Vietnamese woman she was, couldn’t read a single word in her language or ours, and yet she was one of the wisest women I’ve ever known. Always coming up with unique ways for me and my cousins to have fun on a hot, summer day. Or giving us some of the most simple, heart-warming advice you could imagine — for a break-up, moving away to college or losing a family pet.
She truly was amazing. She loved us all so well.
I can’t write a whole lot due to my overflow of emotions. But I want to touch on the sign she recently sent me.
I’m a couple months deep into my healing process. Healing from past traumas and what not. And for part of it I’ve felt like I needed her in order to completely heal. Maybe it’s just me grieving. But frankly I just miss her. Her smile and her funny comments. The way she understood everything you said to her like it was her own life.
This week was a bit revolutionary for my process in getting a grip on my life. So I decided to let go of some stressors for the week and focus on the here and now.
We’d gone to visit my grandpa and I’d not planned on this but when we were there I noticed a few of my grandma’s peonies had bloomed in the front garden. I decided to clip some before we left.
I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d felt that much simple joy. The weight of the large flowers in my lap on the way home gave me a feeling of accomplishment and comfort.
And it wasn’t until several days later — until I’d let them sit in my room in a cup of water, until I cut them down and pressed them — that it all came to me. The flowers were a sign.
I did need my grandma recently more than I have in a very long time. And she was there for me. This was clearly her way of reassuring me and letting me know she’s here.
Honestly this sign is an important part of my healing process.
I’d received signs right after she’d died. Quite a few actually. This one came to me because she knew I needed it.