Trash and other heroes

When my grandmother died, the only thing that kept be going was the fact that the garbage still had to be taken out.

Grandma had a heart attack. Test on Monday - better study.

The doctor should have had her on blood thinners. Do some dishes.

I'll never see her or speak to her again. Laundry needs to be folded.

Those little nuisances...those daily annoyances became the only things that could make me feel normal. I was consumed with grief, but the garbage reminded me that life would continue. I'd better keep going too.