The great object of life is sensation—to feel that we exist, even in pain.
Today marks a month since my grandmother passed away on New Year’s Eve. I’ve spent the past few hours staring at the computer screen watching the cursor blink, patiently waiting for me to twist up the courage to type. It has been a difficult month, one full of different emotions that I never knew I was capable of feeling. This is my first experience with death on such a close, deeply personal level. My grandmother was so much more than a grandmother to me. She was something almost impossible to describe. I have spent this month (among trying to make a home for myself back in Wisconsin, job hunting, being with family and friends and grieving) just barely scratching the surface of photographing images with my camera so that I can create a digital catalog of her life, and her life with me. Her warmth resonates in the images and it has proved very rewarding, bringing back so many memories. I know that this is going to be a very long and difficult road ahead of me. Her loss is an immense one, not just for me, but for anyone who she touched. I hope that I will have the courage to work through it, always remembering that even if she isn’t here physically, my heart and mind can bring me back to her. One month. I love and miss you grandma.