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The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at SBU chapter.
Trigger warnings: discussions of depression, anxiety, and grief

November 13 marked a year and a half without my grandma, my Mama, my Girlfriend, and so many other names I had for her.

It’s strange because, although it’s been a full year and six months now, in some ways, it feels like it’s been an eternity, and in other ways, I still think I can call her on the phone and hear her joyous voice.

My Mama was my first best friend. She and I called one another at least once every day from the time I was about three years old until the week she passed away. She was always one call away and was my greatest listener.

She never made me feel like I was unworthy of complaining about my mundane problems, and she always ensured I felt loved. I could count on her for anything and everything.

She played a leadership role in my first grade Girl Scout troop. She was the one who taught me how to find a relationship with God. She gave me a lifetime of knowledge about loving others. If I could, I would nominate her for sainthood.

Every month on the 13, I look at the date and count how many months have passed since May 13, 2023. It’s strange because the 14 is the day I always cry on, not the 13. I had forgotten this week marked another milestone until I checked the date. I’ve been so caught up in my academics and social life that I have forgotten to grieve.

I want to call Mama and tell her when I cry, but I’m crying over missing her. She was the one I could count on to cheer me up on my bad days.

As she was getting sicker and closer to passing away, I went through a period of deep depression and anxiety. I did not have a name for it at the time, and I thought it was normal when I didn’t put away my laundry for weeks or I would fall asleep crying.

I didn’t know how to reach out to my community, and I didn’t think my problem was big enough to tell anyone. I didn’t want Mama to feel bad, so I never told her how sad I was that we would soon be separated. Thinking about it now, I know she would’ve been okay hearing again and again how much she meant to me.

Calling her “Girlfriend” was a true testament to the love we shared for one another. To no one else was she “Girlfriend”. I always felt special for this fact.

She was the true definition of a grandmother’s love. Something I will forever miss about her is her fudge. No one else knew how to make the rich, chocolate squares, and she even had a special pot just for making it.

There’s not a day that goes by where her teachings don’t guide me. Even on the days when she’s not at the forefront of my mind, I know the kindness she taught me radiates in every interaction I have. She loved her family and friends more than anything and taught me to love everyone because you never know when someone is in a tough place.

Grief is kind of a funny thing, because sometimes it hits me hard and other days I can think about her and only smile. There are things that will always be hers. Certain songs will always make me think of her, and my favorite meals are the ones she made.

The one pairing I forever miss is (now, stay with me on this one) porkchops and applesauce with a baked potato. I have a distinct memory of sitting in her dining room and eating this meal, but instead of picky-eater me keeping everything separate, I decided to take my cut-up porkchop and dip it into the applesauce. I thought it was the coolest “invention” ever!

Memories like this are what remind me that I am not alone, and I never really was. I’m at a school I love with a community of people, both secular and religious, who I share myself with. I feel so loved and I’m so lucky to have been loved by my Mama.

So, even if you lost someone this year, last year, or ten years ago, your experience with grief is valid. I know everyone says it’s not linear, but it really isn’t. There’s no exact path of grief for every single person, but it’s good to know that it eventually stings a little less.

Celebrating, rather than grieving, on these anniversaries has made it easier for me to live without her physical presence in my life. Eating meals that feed my soul make it easier. Watching the evening news like she did and going to daily mass remind me how much she taught me.

Allow yourself to honor these people in your life, and if you haven’t lost a loved one, show them how much you love them while they are around. I think if we all knew how much others love us, we could live with more intention and spread our love with more people.

Embrace your grief. You are allowed to express it in whatever way feels best. It’s special to know how loved you were and are. Cry happy tears and cry sad tears. You are so loved!

Alexis Serio is a shadow to the editors of the St. Bonaventure Her Campus chapter. She is gaining the skills to edit and critique her HC sisters’ articles, as well as growing in her own writing abilities. Alexis is looking forward to becoming more involved with HC and refining her skills. Alexis is a sophomore studying Communication, Social Justice & Advocacy and Spanish with a concentration in theology. Aside from Her Campus, Alexis serves as the service and community outreach officer for Jandoli Women in Communication. She also works for the Franciscan Center for Social Concern and Mt. Irenaeus as an assistant and as a communications intern, respectively. In her free time, Alexis enjoys reading and listening to music with friends. She is always open to listening to a new artist, but her current favorite is Noah Kahn. Alexis loves to go on chatty walks and explore new places!