Thirty Days: Part Three (A SwipeDate Novella) by BT Urruela

Author:BT Urruela [Urruela, BT]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thirty Days: Part Three
Publisher: BT URRUELA
Published: 2017-08-03T16:00:00+00:00

Grief is a miserable, ugly bitch. It wraps you up like cellophane, constricting you, trapping you in its suffocating embrace.

I haven’t moved much from my bed since I returned home from Brookdale the other night, hours after she had passed and her body was carted away for good. Jackie had to pull me from the bed as I just couldn’t let her go.

I still can’t.

I understand everyone’s time comes, and that she lived a full and healthy life for the most part, but it still doesn’t make the pain of her loss any easier to handle. It doesn’t make having to prepare to put her body in the ground any less heartbreaking.

Though I’d ignored most of the outside world the past two days, there were funeral arrangements to be made. I’m the only one here to do them—not that I’d want anyone else doing them regardless—and handling the subtleties of a funeral in only a few days is more work than I thought it would be. And much harder to get through. How terrible a thing it is that all you want to do is wallow when death rears its ugly head, but that’s really the last thing you can do. So many things need to be done first before you can even truly mourn.

This afternoon she will be put into the ground, with Grandpa, and dirt will be poured over her casket. And somehow, I’ll have to find the courage, the strength, to talk about this incredible woman’s life without completely losing it.

I’m slow to get ready, taking about an hour in the shower, seated on the porcelain floor and letting the water pour over me long after the hot water runs out, mindlessly cleaning myself when I can remember that’s what I’m in here to do, but most of the time is spent in recollection—poring over the days with Grandma and Grandpa when they were both alive and well, and my youthful, reckless abandon.

Without their guidance and support, I know it wouldn’t have been me burying each of them, but surely it would’ve been the other way around. I was a lost little kid before Grandma finally convinced my mom to let me and my brother Jared visit for the summer. My mother fought Grandma on it for years, solely for control purposes, but she eventually relented when I was eight years old and she realized getting rid of us for three months was a better deal than maintaining total control.

I was shocked when she delivered the news to us, two days before we were to take our very first flight ever to New York City; tickets provided by my Grandparents, of course, as they were every summer thereafter. The prospects of it were far bigger than my little mind could handle at the time, but the excitement was surreal. I felt like I was going to burst at the seams.

I hadn’t seen or gotten to know much of Grandma and Grandpa before then, beyond when they’d fly in for Christmas, so there were nerves involved too.

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