I can't believe that today is the one year anniversary of my Granma's death. It doesn't feel like that long ago. I've been surprisingly calm today. I thought about today being the anniversary a few days ago, and I thought that I might be a wreck, but I've been OK.
Life without Granma hasn't been too terribly different, unfortunately. Since I haven't lived near her in 20 years, I'm used to her not being around. It only seems to hit me when I visit Grampa's apartment. When I see her chair, her scooter, just sitting there. I know the scooter gets used by Grampa when he has to walk a long distance, but it doesn't get used all that often.
Grampa is toying with the idea of moving to a one bedroom apartment in his retirement community. He doesn't need the space of a two bedroom. We all don't visit that often, and when we do, we can stay in the guest quarters, hotel or Gramma Mc's. But I think that he is having trouble letting go of the last home of Gramma. Not only did they share this apartment, but he would have to get rid of the bed they have shared for DECADES. The one bedroom is small, and would require him to use a twin bed rather than the queen size he has now. I can't even imagine how hard it must be for him to think about not having the things he shared with Gramma around.
One year. Wow.
"Granma, be with me on Monday. I would love to know that you are watching over me."