The Next Chapter.

I haven't been on here in quite a while. Maybe it's just a feeling of a lack of things to write about. To be honest, I've spent more time living my life in the moment than living my life online. To be truthful, my life is no more than average, but it's my average life. So I do what I can to make the best of those moments, in knowing that I'll make steps forward. 

Today, though, I feel compelled to write. So I'm listening to some YouTube videos as I type. Typically that puts me into my zone, if you will, where I'm super relaxed. This blog is kinda a combination of a few that I started prior to today, condensed together, so it may get kinda long, and I apologize for that. Bear with me. 

May 21st, 2017: My grandma, after 95 years on this earth, including the last 2 years of her life where she struggled with dementia, passed away. In that moment, all kinds of emotions ran through me, from the obvious ones to ones of peace, silence, and calm. It was a weird moment for me, because while I felt an immense sadness for losing the grandma who has been a constant in my life for 28 years -- far longer than most, I'm sure -- it was still surreal to think that she was no longer here. In that moment though, I was happy for her. She didn't have to suffer anymore, and finally could be at peace. All I've ever wanted for her is to be at peace. 

May 31st, 2017: After a whirlwind of funeral preparations, finding out things -- and getting frustrated -- regarding funeral planning, this was the day I viewed the body for the first time since I last saw my grandma alive. Keep in mind I didn't even go to the viewing of the body the day before my mom's funeral, but at the advice of my dad, we went down together. THIS was probably the single hardest moment for me, as it hit me like a ton of bricks. My grandma was gone. In front of me was this angelic body of a person who I knew as my grandma, but the person I called Grandma was gone. It was hard, I'm not going to lie. In that moment though, as I looked at her, I realized just how peaceful she looked. She looked like she was sleeping. I've never seen a person so at peace. Here, I knew that I did right by her, and always had. And I know that I'll continue to do right by her. 

In the days after the funeral -- with family and the like, and getting through that day having to push past my introverted anxiety wall where all I wanted to do was sit in my room and not interact with people -- I've really thought about everything my life has brought me to, at this point. I've been flooded with memories that have made me laugh and smile, just remembering all the goods time my grandma and I shared together. It's never easy to lose a loved one, but I know those memories will be what I think on and remember. 

The person my grandma was at the end of her life, while still the lovable person I know, wasn't the person I want to remember her as. To me, she's that spunky, lively individual who would cook up a meal at 8pm at night just because I said I was hungry. To me, she's that fearless go-getter who would walk from the house to the church, in heels, just to get to 8am service when the car wouldn't start that morning. To me, she's the caring person who sat down with me and told me that she would always love me, no matter what my quirks where, who I was, or who I chose to love. To me, she's that inspiring person who gave so much of herself and put so much of herself out there, even if she got absolutely nothing in return. Every day she inspired me to be a better version of myself, instilling values and wisdom I'll never lose. 

Today marks 2 weeks since the funeral. I feel like I've gone at full speed since May 21st, and today was really the first day where I just sat down. I went down to the house and looked through things to see what all was still in the house -- mind you, she's got a basement FULL of stuff that I'm not excited to go through because manual labor -- and to kinda figure out a game plan. I didn't really do that; instead I just sat there and remembered. I remembered everything about growing up in that house, and everything that ever was about anything with my first 12 years of life in that house. It was great to sit in the middle of the living room and just remember everything. It was really nice to think on and reflect on. For me, it was the perfect close of one chapter..... and the opening of a new one. 

My life feels so weird now. It's a weird peace and tranquility that I have to my life now. I don't have a reason to go to Berkeley anymore. I don't have anyone really to go and visit anymore. It was so weird at first driving down there and going immediately to the house, instead of driving up to the nursing home to see her. It was so weird to walk in the house, knowing that she herself would never walk in it again. But after a few moments -- and a couple of rambling phone calls to a few friends -- I kinda settled into the "new normal" if you will and started looking at things. 

It's a new chapter in my life. I'm truly in this on my own. I'm here in California with nothing left to hold me here. I truly came back to be with my Grandma and spend all the time with her that I could, and I'm glad that I did that. These past 5 years are immeasurable in quality of life. I've gotten so much from the times and memories with her. But this is a new step. It's weird. I like it though, because it's all unknown. 

I could technically stay in California until the next big step happens. 

I could leave California behind and truly forge ahead with whatever I want. 

I could even start dating again. 

There's really unlimited possibilities at this point. While that's scary, I can really dictate what I can -- and want to -- do now. What that will be will show itself in time, and there's no rush on anything. It's nice.... and peaceful. I don't feel like I need guidance in that way, but I'm happy to know that in whatever steps I take, I now have 2 guardian angels -- my mom and my grandma -- to watch over me. That alone makes me smile.

#UntilNextTime