larger than life

larger than life
photo by jill banach

photo by jill banach

I have never lost someone close to me. Except for my great-grandmother, when I was two. My family tells me that we had a unique connection. As an irritable infant and toddler, I would scream for GG. Most other people I actually despised. GG lived with my family during her last years. I remember certain snippets of her, but most memories come from retellings of stories that I was too young to recall.

I remember the butterscotch candy she used to stow under her bed (and I remember crawling under her bed to retrieve it). I remember the chair she always sat in. And how close it was to television (by that point her eyes and ears were more or less useless). I remember the fancy dresses she wore, especially the pink floral one (that one was pretty).

Even though I cannot fully articulate the relationship I shared with GG, I’ve been reminded about it enough to know that it was very real.

But what solidifies to me how fervent our bond was is that I still feel her presence in my life all the time. Whether it’s the cane that never fails to fall out of the closet around the time of a special family gathering (she would never miss a good party) or her mass card showing up as a sign just when I need one, GG is not gone. She is still very much here.

When I face a moment of doubt or confusion, I look to her for the answer. I can sense her rooting for me. And this is someone who I only really “knew” for the first two years of my life.

The other day a little girl I was babysitting ran down from the rock she was climbing to announce that she saw her grandmother, who had passed a few years back.

Where? I ask.

“Up there, in the sky,” She responds, pointing upwards.

“How do you know it’s her?”

“She is every colored bird. Mostly red or blue. But this time, she is a red bird.”

By the time I climbed up the rock to see if the bird was still there, she had flown away.

I stood still, frozen. I was removed from the trivialness of day-to-day life and was gently reminded of the fluidity of our lives. Of how everlasting our impact on other people is.

We often think of ourselves as one being, separate from those around us. We think about our daily duties and our futures. But our lives are so much greater than that, packed with meaning and sentiment.

Each of our lives holds so much power and inspiration. Even after death, we continue to affect those who have previously crossed our paths. Those who we’ve met once and those we see everyday. I believe people come into our lives for very specific reasons. We teach each other lessons, usually without even knowing it. Our souls bare an energy that allows us to float through different time periods and through the lives of countless people.

When we think of our lives in a broader sense, with the realization that our souls are out there in the universe somewhere, creating waves that are more complex and intricate than we can ever imagine, we may start to see the greatness and influence that each person has. The vibrations from each and every person are required to make our earth whole. We can work on kindness, graciousness, and connection now, for I believe that once our physical bodies pass on, our spirits will continue to affect change forever.

A lifestyle blog about veganism, mood swings, & other chatter.