Waking up 16 days ago to my grandma not being on this earth anymore. My whole life, she has been here. Guiding, praising, inspiring, critiquing, and challenging me. The emptiness is not refillable physically, only in intentional memories of her lessons and spiritual philosophies. No one compares to the level of charisma and authenticity she held for me. The anger in me is insane, and I screamed in the shower 10 minutes after getting the news. She’s gone and everything leading up to that moment meant nothing after because I wanted to drink so fucking bad. But drinking wouldn’t bring her back. Not one drop would. So my uncle took me to a meeting and cried my face off.
My grandma has been a practicing Psychotherapist in Idaho for the last 28 years, and died 2 days before her 44th year of abstinent sobriety. I have never seen my grandma drunk or high. She got her Master’s degree when I was 8 years old, and I remember going to her graduation at Walla Walla University. At 50 years old she had spiky blonde hair, rode a Harley, and let me wear her makeup when we had sleepovers. My childhood was brightened by her presence, and my mother hated it. My mother met my father while he was incarcerated and my grandmother was my mothers sponser in AA. I was a preconceived AA baby. I used to resent my grandma, when she would bring up my drinking or my choice of occupation. It’s silly because she was always right.
What helps me cope with this reality in question is knowing my grandmother loved the fuck out of me and told EVERYONE; all of her sponsees, her clients, her friends she met on her little hobby quests. It’s nice hearing it, but what really breaks me is the last text message I received from her. – ” I appreciate you so much, Mandi. Im in love with the change that you’ve made for yourself. You’re such a beautiful individual, and Im grateful to have you. I prayed for you, you know, and I continue to.” I hate that she is gone, however. I am so glad she is not in pain anymore. I dont think I will ever get used to this reality without her here.
“I am both the sacred breath that moves through me, and the bones that hold me up.” 
Leave a comment