|I think my Oma had just noticed the hole in my skirt.|
I was trying to hide from her.
Thursday morning I got up at the unholy hour of 6 am. I was going for a run. 45 minutes of run walk drills because my half marathon in September won't run itself. I was pretty grumpy. Scratch that I was angry. I've got some pretty epic resistance reactions when it comes to something messing with my sleep. But I knew that at 6 am the temperature would be tolerable. So there I was at 6 am trying to wrestle myself into my running tights. I set out everything the night before so I could get dressed and go without waking up Johnathan.
Then I realized I forgot my phone in the bedroom. Running doesn't count unless you start ALL the running apps on your phone before you go. I tip-toed back into the bedroom. Grabbed my phone and looked at my notification screen. There was a message from my dad was asking if we had seen "The World's End" I wasn't even done reading it before my brain when "of course we have Daddy!"
I started reading the message below it, also from my dad.
All I read was "she passed away."
I crumbled to the floor while making a sound that kind of was Johnathan's name. Needless to say he was awake and quickly joined me on the floor.
We sat on the floor and I just sobbed in his arms.
My Oma is gone.
I didn't know what to do other than to just sit on the floor and cry.
At that point there wasn't much information and anyone who would have any info was asleep because time zones are a thing.
|No granddaughter of her was going to have a hole in their skirt|
at their wedding rehearsal.
Johnathan eventually got me off the floor and said he would make me coffee. I was standing in our hallway just utterly baffled as to what I needed to do. I felt like I needed to do something. I didn't know if there was anything I COULD do. I just stood there in my running gear and asked Johnathan what I should do. He answered the question with a question (I normally hate that).
"What do you WANT to do?"
I stood there and looked down at my feet.
"I think I'll go for a run."
That seemed to make a hell of a lot of sense at that moment for some reason. I needed to go out for my run.
I know all the things people say about exercising creating endorphins (happy people don't kill their husbands and all that jazz.) I know that people say you should keep busy when you're grieving can help you process feelings and this had nothing to do with keeping busy. I just needed to be alone.
I needed to be myself. I needed to mull over the fact that I will never see my Oma again. I needed to stick to my plan to go for a run because some how in what I felt was going to be a chaotic and emotionally draining next few days that I needed to so something that was routine.
So I went for a run.
I angry ran.
I cried and walked.
I stood at the top of the hill that I hate and looked at the view of the farms and fields and alps and just felt all the feelings. I distracted myself screaming brain by counting my pace out loud.
I just put one foot in front of the other.
Over the next few days I will just put one foot in front of the other and count to 10 over and over and over.