Early in my first semester as a freshman in college I lost my paternal grandma. She had been slightly ill, but nothing out of the ordinary. Her death was completely unexpected. I remember, very vividly, when I got the call. I had been washing laundry, specifically sheets, and was in the process of folding them. I still tear up when I wash those sheets, nearly three months later. My mom called and told me the news and I immediately fell against the nearest washing machine, sobbing loudly. I remember my mom trying to calm me down so that we could talk about what needed to be done. I needed to contact my professors, pack a bag, get my assignments for the week, and make arrangements to go to the funeral. It took several minutes for me to process all this. I grabbed my laundry and went back to my dorm room, following her instructions. When I was a kid and experienced a loss, I never had to do any of this.

I didn't have much time for tears in between packing and emailing. My mom was about two hours away, and we went to her sister's house for the night. I couldn't laugh and joke around with my cousins as usual because I had entered a state of shock. I didn't sleep well and much of my appetite was gone. My mom, though she was being supportive, talked as if nothing had happened. She encouraged me to eat, rest, and spend time with my cousins. She made sure I emailed my professors and asked about their responses. She was focused on what was happening at school and at my job. Why didn't she care that I'd just lost my grandma? Why didn't she hug me and soothe me like she did when I was young?

It was at this point that I realized how grieving changes as you get older. When you're an adult you have different responsibilities. You can't just put everything else on hold and wait for your life to get better when something like this happens. The whole world doesn't stop when someone you love dies, only your world does. Society expects us to keep going even when moving on seems impossible.

It's been almost three months since my grandma passed away. I jumped back into the swing of things as quickly as I could, but there are still days where it's hard to get out of bed, to eat, and to do anything but cry. Her death taught me a lot, but it especially forced me to grow up.