The Aftermath Of A Funeral

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Wauw. It's Monday.

3 days after my grandmother's funeral. I feel like I've been hit by a bus. Emotionally, physically.

Physically mostly because I decided to tackle my grandfather's garden on Saturday, which, looking back, probably was a two-three person job. But I needed some me-time, and being in the garden is definitely on top 3 of 'Most Zen Things To Do.' Just overtaken by listening to the sound of waves. And maybe shopping.

Emotionally because... well we all know that a funeral is a sad thing, but I actually find everything sad these days. Talking with my grandfather is sad, because he's sad and because my grandmother always had something to say. Watching TV is sad because a commercial will remind me of the time at the hospital when my grandmother still smiled and laughed at little things in life. Shopping for new kitchen gear with my grandfather is sad, because it reminds him of the dishes he wanted to cook for my grandmother, but never got to. I see my grandmother everywhere in their house, in the supermarket she loved, in the car driving me to the bus, at the breakfast table. I hear her.

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But as my girlfriend said the other day;

"I think she's sitting in heaven looking after you and enjoying following your life like she did before." And I like that thought. That's actually very comfortable and cozy to think if she's smiling because we say something funny, cheering when we make decisions in life, watching TV with us, crying when we cry. I like that. It all gets a little philosophical, and I've thought some very existential and deep thoughts lately. But that's probably good for me. I'm sure I will come out on the other side. Sadness will turn into happy memories. It's just a little hard right now. 

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