We’re All In Our Places

Things have been slow in regard to blog inspiration lately. Each time I’ve sat down to write the past couple of weeks my mind draws a blank. But how is that possible after over two weeks of traveling through beautiful cities over Christmas break, plus a trip home?


On Thursday, January 8, 2015, my grandma passed away in her hospital bed. She had been battling Round 2 of lymphatic cancer for about three weeks. When I decided to make the visit home back in October, we didn’t even know that the cancer was back. I spent time with her during my visit last April, and spoke to her on the phone like everything was normal just over Thanksgiving.

I don’t know what went so wrong. The day before I arrived back in Oklahoma she was moved to hospice and they began to discuss turning off her machines. It was extremely difficult to visit her in her final days knowing that she wouldn’t want anyone to see her that way.

I feel a sorrow that I imagine will only subside with time. I wasn’t able to attend her funeral as my flight back to Spain was on the same day. I don’t know if that would have given me more closure. I was dreading that day, but I feel like I should have been there.

Apart from the emptiness I feel at times, I’m still incredibly grateful that I was able to say goodbye. That I could speak to her, hug her, and hold her hand one last time. I’m also grateful that I could be with my family while we were preparing for her to go.

My grandma was an English teacher. She would always mess with me when I came to visit, using words like “facetious” or “trite” in our conversations since I was in elementary school. Eventually I knew what all of them meant.

We always shared a love for words. She understood my love fresh, untouched paper and hardback books. She gave me some of the texts she used in her classes. She encouraged me to read and write by giving me new journals or buying books for us to read at the same time. I have at least 10 journals in my closet that are hilarious to look back on: stories of family vacations, my old best friends, and how much my little brother annoyed me.

I could never keep one going consistently– until now. She was one of the main reasons I began this blog. Although I knew she wanted me to be at home, she never kept back how proud she was of me documenting my adventures. I wanted her to still be a part of what I was doing and it was really important to me that my family could read this. I think she was the only one in my family besides my dad who did.

I hope I can articulate myself well, write with meaning, and create something that she would love to read. She told me that one day I would have some amazing stories to tell.

So that’s what I will try to do.