
I have been blessed in my life, and I'm aware of that. In fact, I am reminded almost on a daily basis of how lucky I've been. How little real loss I have known. That ended yesterday.
My family dynamics, like many these days, are convoluted, to say the least. The short version is this: my granddaughter, my Darling Girl has two older brothers. Technically, they are half brothers but I don't do fractions so, brothers. And therefore, grandsons in my heart. Yesterday, the oldest boy was killed in a car accident on his way to work. No other vehicles were involved. We may never, probably will never, know what happened, other than his car rolled over and slammed into a tree. Did he fall asleep? Was he maybe texting while driving? Knowing him, how responsible he was, the latter seems unlikely.
The only thing we do know is that a beautiful young boy lost his life and the world is poorer today because of it. I never saw him angry. I never saw or heard him do anything mean or small. He was a gentle dreamer. He was the perfect big brother to his younger siblings. Loving, kind, protective.
I've heard people comment how the holiday season, from Thanksgiving through New Years, holds no meaning for them because someone they loved passed away during that time. I understood that in my head but, today, I feel it in my heart. He was "only" my non-biological grandson and I'm shattered. I cannot, can not, imagine the grief and devastation being suffered by his real family. His grandparents who raised him, the other grandparents who were ever present in his life, his younger brother and sisters who loved him with every fiber of their young hearts.
I'm not a close part of that family. I'm not related by blood; I'm the grandma grandma, not the parent grandma. The ranks have closed, as they should, while they process their grief and struggle to come to terms with this awful new reality. I've let them know I am here. I am available if they need me. Knowing that is all I can do doesn't make me feel any less useless and lost.
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