She was a strong woman filled with words of her own wisdom. She spoke the truth, although sometimes blunt, it was the truth. She beat odds. She had the softest hands. She was traditional. She was stubborn. She was kind. She is my grandma. She is gone. She is loved.
We all mourn the death of a loved one differently. I look to my photography as my way to put these raw emotions within me aside. I write with tears streaming down my face, but it's only the beginning. I feel numb, sick. I want to be held; I want to be alone, simultaneously. My eyes burn, fill with sadness and my world becomes blurred. With each blink, it washes down my face and begins the cycle again. I want to say goodbye. Now, this is my only way. You have forever changed my world, Grandma. I love you.
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