My Grandma, Grandma Helen, could always be found sitting in her designated living room chair, drinking a can of Pepsi, watching “Days of Our Lives,” completing a crossword puzzle, or sewing.
She absolutely LOVED sewing and had always been so prominent in incorporating my sister and me. She had containers brimmed to the top with every color thread you could think of, and she taught us almost everything we needed to know—diverse stitches, how to create our own pattern, what needle was most beneficial for material types, etc. In the process of sewing, I would often grow frustrated because things did not progress in the ideal way I wanted, but she would always say, “Take it one step at a time,” and so I would try again.
However, my grandmother’s hobby was not the reason why I cherished her so dearly. I adored her because she was a support system like no other. She advised me in all the ways she could: how to use my words, how to assist others when applicable, and most importantly, how to navigate the ways of life with patience.
That is why on October 7 of 2012 I began my experience overcoming one of the hardest things I have ever been faced with: coping with my grandmother's death. She passed away from a severe case of breast cancer. Within the following days, I could not focus on anything else but her absence as having her in my presence was my normalcy, and I was still inquiring about methods in order to adjust.
I determined she was diminished of agony, which was a great abetment in the healing process, but I was still heartbroken. I decided that it was okay for me to be sorrowful, so I slowed my pace with trying to be instantly merry. Today, I constantly feel overwhelmed with the same emotions, trying to appeal to others with my joyous self and not display that I am agitated. However, in order to accurately analyze my emotions correctly, I learned I had to take things one step at a time, just as my grandma taught me in sewing.