I Am Not OK

No matter how many times you ask me, no matter the months or years that pass by, please know this--I am not OK. I will never be OK ever again. My heart has been shattered into a million tiny pieces, never to heal. As long as I am left on this earth, I shall be a woman with a broken heart. Broken over the tragic death of my grandson and over the knowledge that my daughter is also suffering and brokenhearted. I now grieve for 2 people, her and her son. She is also broken. 

So, when you ask me, are you OK? And if I answer yes, I am not telling you the truth. I am not OK. 

I am surviving. I am trying to act like I am getting better or getting used to not seeing my grandson. As time passes, I will succeed in convincing you that I am OK, but I am not. I will not get over the death of my grandson. Honestly, it feels as if I have lost one of my children, not a grandchild. The pain that I feel deep in my heart aches. As I look at photos, some from just 2 months ago, I remember back over the last 22 years, and I sob with pain. I miss him so much. 

Fortunately, I had 22 years of pure joy with him. I am very thankful and grateful for those years. I tell God that every morning. When Jack was just a baby, he stayed with us for 9 months (with his mommy) while his dad was shipped out on a Naval aircraft carrier. I made him his own little nursery decorated with teddy bears and so many toys. When they left to go back home, I cried my eyes out. I missed them both so much but knew that their place was with their own little family. 

As a new grandmother, I committed to always being a presence in my grandchildren's lives. At most, two months could go by without a visit. Either my home or theirs, it didn't matter to me; I just wanted to hug them, hold them, and tell them I loved them. I wonder if Jack realized that. Did he know how much he was loved? I loved him so much and always will. He was my first grandbaby and will always have that special place in my heart. 

Every morning, I wake up and say good morning, Jack, I love you and miss you. And I wonder--with his birthday and the holidays looming, will I make it through? Will my daughter? Will we be content with our memories for the rest of our lives? I hope so. I am counting on God to walk us through this time. 

I am one of those grandmothers with family photos all over the house. The family room and hallways are covered with pictures. That's how I like it—family first. Now, though, as I sit and write this, I see his face everywhere—playing his guitar, hiking through a field, getting ready to go to Europe with us. Oh, thank God for that trip. Two weeks in Europe with our grandson—what beautiful memories. I had just wanted to make more--more time, more memories, more of everything. 

So now, I shall endeavor to make future memories with my other seven grandchildren. We will continue with our holiday fun, European trips, birthday parties, and much more. We will create memories, laugh, and cry together. We are a family. We will all remember to share our Jack stories. He will be a part of our lives, hearts, and memories forever. We will survive this and grow, and hopefully help others in their times of pain--however, I will never be OK. Part of my heart broke off, and now I am walking a different walk- a lopsided limp walk of a very mournful woman. I will pray and seek God. I will continue on with my life, and I will live on for my family. For we are survivors. 

So, when you ask me if I am OK, I am not and never will be.