I got the call this morning at 8am. My grandmother on my dad's side passed away at 7:30 this morning.
The tears didn't immediately start flowing. I ate my breakfast like normal, drove up from Tacoma and sort of listened to NPR. I got home, started looking into changing my flights and then just started bawling. The reality of losing immediate family came crashing in.
I know this is part of the process. This is the part of life that happens to everyone, no one is immune. Yet I can't deny the sense of loss and the sadness that comes with it, not to mention the big fat alligator tears. (Thank goodness I held onto those hankies from Melinda when Ryan passed.)
Death stirs up all sorts of grief - the reminder that life is too short. The reminder that loving someone is such a risk and absolutely worth it. And that you should be enjoying every single little waking moment of it.
And that family is so important to hold near and dear to your heart. We've only got one shot at this life.