I Hope It's The Grief

I haven't wanted to admit it,

Until now,

But I think,

When my grandpa died,

A part of me did too.

I'm not peppy,

Or social,

Or as sweet as I once was.

Really,

I'm not innocent anymore.

I used to call my grandpa every Sunday

And he would tell me,

"Whew! I'm worn out just listening to you.

You do more in a day than I do in a whole week!"

And he would marvel

At how cheerful I was

And murmur that I never had a bad day.

I had bad days.

But as far as my grandpa was concerned?

Never.

I never had a bad day.

He helped me see the good

In everything,

Because to him,

My life was sweet,

Busy, social, Christ-centered,

And innocent.

He's dead now.

I have a hard time

Wanting to be social.

I feel a lot colder than I used to.

I'm scared it's adulthood,

I hope it's the grief.

09/01/23