On my way to my counselling session at college this morning it was raining, matching my mood nicely. My Grandma died yesterday afternoon, peacefully, in her sleep after months of struggle with fluid filled lungs.
Sitting at the bus stop, waiting for the 5B, I watched the houses in the puddle disintegrate and reform as buses crashed through them. My Grandma was a resilient ninety three until yesterday. Now she’s gone.
Where has she gone? Where has that sense of her, her uniqueness, gone to? It’s not in her body any more, so where is it? Did it seep out of her with the heat of her body? Has it mingled with the atmosphere? Is she part of the weather system? Where is my Grandma’s essence?