Tomorrow marks one year since my grandfather passed away. What can I say except that he was my hero, the epitome of generosity and love, I miss him every single day and the last year has been harder than I could have ever imagined. Words cannot begin to express how grateful I am to have spent the past year (and the 4 prior) living in his home. Those four walls on 53rd Street were one of the few constants I had in my childhood and living there this past year without my grandfather has been difficult. I remember those first few nights so vividly - there was a strange silence and a sense of emptiness and feelings of loss that I had never felt in that house. And I hated it. I knew I had to do something to fill my time since I couldn't bear just to sit and be still. So I started cleaning and Lord knows there was a lot of that needed to be done! From the time I got home from work until the time I went bed, I went through closets and drawers and boxes and rooms. Spending that time going through my grandfather's belongings was most certainly therapeutic and led me to discover just how much I love giving new life to old things. That little hobby of mine has helped me more than I can possibly say. Looking back, I can't believe the sun has risen and set 365 times since that horrible morning but it's a reminder that life goes on and with each passing day it gets a little easier. I thank the Lord for carrying my family and I through this past year when we could barely walk and I trust Him to see us through the next. I recently found this quote from Memoirs of a Geisha that I'd like to end with...
"Grief is the most peculiar thing; we're so helpless in the face of it. It's like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we can do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it."