You know so often we hear the phrase that time heals all wounds. I'm just beginning to learn how long that time is. It's been nearly two months since my grandfather passed away, yet the pain is still there. Pictures of him, songs that make me think of him, little things he gave to me, even thinking about him will still make me dissolve into tears. I've never known a pain like this before and there are still days when I ask God why He had to do this, or why He couldn't have at least chosen a different time. There are days that I still kick myself over and over again for not spending more time with my grandfather, still days that I think that it was all my fault, cause somehow I did something that caused all this to happen.
It all hit me pretty hard the yesterday on my birthday. It was the first time in 20 years that I had not heard my grandfather's voice wishing me a happy birthday and telling me how fast I was growing up. It was also the first time that my birthday card was signed only by grandmother. I can't even describe how much that hurt.
I had never understood how much it hurt to lose a member of your family until that day several months ago, and I certainly never understood how long it takes it heal, how long it takes for every little reminder to stop feeling like a knife in the heart. I know that I still have a long way to go before the pain starts to go away, even a little bit, but I know that time and God will get me there.
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