this is not the one my Grandma had
Grief is a strange and funny thing. You will remember things about that person at the strangest times. You might start laughing out loud in a quiet room or you could start crying when you smell something familiar.
There were times when I would be missing my Grandma (who is alive but lives over 1200 miles away) and a customer would come into my work wearing her perfume and it would get me every time. Or if I miss her now, I have a bag of spices from the Italian grocery store that she has worked at for as long as I can remember, I will go in my kitchen and pull the bag down and shove my face in it.
The other day when we were in the habitat for humanity restore because they had an organ just like the one my Great Grandma had and taught me how to play on. This might also be compounded by the fact that my son was instantly attracted to it and wanted to know all about it and didn’t want to leave it. That just might make you cry a little more. And maybe even again while you are writing this post. I love that woman so much, her and my Grandma are the only people in the world (well until Chris and Nate) who made me feel loved unconditionally and without expectation. I could tell her everything and anything and nothing I ever told her made me feel like she loved me less. I never felt scared to tell her my real feelings like I do with my parents. We would work in her garden and snap green beans for dinner. She taught me how to fry chicken and eat lunch meat from a package for a snack. She let me try coffee for the first time and always made sure we did fun things when I spent summers with her. Thrifting/garage sales were something we did together. Even simple things were fun with Great Grandma.
Things that have set me off before:
the fake fruit that is studded with metal things
the ice cubes that are plastic and you freeze and reuse
hearing Nate call cows ‘moo moos’
sometimes when I wear a brooch of hers in my hair as a barrette
making her mints
smelling a farm
when glitter paint for walls started becoming a thing again
crocheting (which I still haven’t done since she died and I don’t know why)
Sometimes the pain of her not being around is unbearable and sometimes I can accept it because she had dementia and was not herself the last several years. And sometimes, organs make me bawl in the middle of a restore.