…and life goes on

I am not a person, to easily share about my private life. Which is funny in a way, because most of my life I operated in a capacity always requiring me to share bits and pieces of myself with the public. I have never been shy however to share about the love I have for my Grandmother, and those of you who attended our Supper Clubs over the last few years know, how much I do is inspired directly by her. 

Her passing just over two months ago broke my heart, my spirit and in many ways my willpower to do anything. I haven’t experienced grief in such a profound way before, and there’s been days I thought something was wrong with me. My focus was gone, my drive and desire to “do” disappeared. My mind replayed endless movies of my grandmother and I during my childhood years; her voice echoing with each step I take during the day. All I’ve been wanting to do is to curl up and just be left alone. I didn’t want to answer another question, or solve another problem. I didn’t want to smile, or make small talks. I simply ran out of fuel that was the driving force for me. Now, as days go on, getting up and getting on with life is getting a bit easier, and finding my way back to what I love to do is slowly returning to my heart. 

I am sorry to have been absent, but I needed to hide from the world, from life. This was and is the only way I know how to mend my broken heart. I hope I didn’t let you down, I hope I didn’t make you think I didn’t care about you all anymore. 

I just needed to create the bit of space to heal, because in the end, life does go on.

Now, it’s just with my Grandmother guiding each step along the way.