It’s been really long since I last wrote here. My life took a proper turn and then another and then just threw me out from everything I knew.
It’s almost a month since I moved away from Hannover, Germany to Copenhagen, Denmark. With no time to deal or realize what was really happening. Everything happened so fast that I still feel weirded out that I am here. It doesn’t feel real.
It’s been hard, it’s been good, it’s been new, it’s been beautiful, it’s been surprising, it’s been awful, it’s been amazing.
It’s really hard for me to put in to words how I feel and have been going through emotionally.
I don’t think I had any idea how this move would make me feel. Everything was really different than the last time. It’s always an adapting experience and I’m still in the beginning of this one. But this time I left part of my family behind for some time, for time that I don’t know yet. When that hit me, it was really hard to take, a lot of tears.
And this is the reason why I haven’t been writing in so long…
I lost my Granma little over a week ago. I didn’t want to write it, because then it would be little more true. I also didn’t know if I want to tell it to anyone, especially here. She was so much more than just a Granma. She gave me wings. She always pushed me to be me, not anyone else. She was gentle, tough, loving, warm, everything. She made up this amazing fairytale forest when I was small, it was this forest close to my Granparents place, but she made it magical. She made up stories and encouraged my imagination just to roam free and fly. She let me sit in the middle of their raspberry bushes, without no worry. She let me mow the lawn at winter, so I was basically just making awesome lines in the deep snow. She cooked the best food. She tried to teach me how to bake, which I never learned and still suck. She made the most beautiful christmas trees I know, they were always different and even better than the last year. She got up during the night to put my blanket back even though she knew that I will kick it off again. Most of the time we didn’t agree, but she accepted me. She loved me no matter what. She hated my tattoos. She was there for me.
And when she got sick this spring, it kicked the air out of me. To me, my Granparents are people who will never go away. And all of sudden I had to understand that I will loose them someday. Maybe sooner than I wanted to think.
I saw her the last time the week before I moved. She was so happy that I was moving away from Germany, because she saw and knew how unhappy I was there. She wanted me to find a place where I could have a life, where I could be me, where I could be like any normal my age person. And when I moved here, I was thinking all the time that I have to fight for my own happiness finally. That was what she wanted me to do. I pushed myself with her help. For the first time I didn’t want to give up. I didn’t want to let her down, again. I know that in a way she always had hope when it came to me, but I also know that she really hoped that something would finally change with me and how I lived my life.
She was one of the rare people that somehow understood what running meant to me. When I wrote her from London during Hackney Half, that I am running this for you because you can’t, it meant so much to her. Maybe she saw how much I had changed and how much happier and balanced I am because of running.
If this move isn’t hard enough with only all that it brings in my everyday life with everything new, this gut filling feeling if loosing part of you, made this even more challenging. But something changed in me. I wanted to fight for the first time, ever. I didn’t want to give up. And I know it’s her. She pushes me and reminds me to push on, to make myself proud, to show myself what I am capable of. All those things that she knew and tried to show to me, from really young.
I don’t know how to deal this loss. I have never lost anyone this close before. I don’t have the tools for this.
The only things I can do is remind myself of all that I have from her, all those millions of memories, all of her hugs, her tough love that really worked. Be grateful and try to be positive. That is what she would want me to do. To go on with my life and do all those things I am meant to do.
I will honor her and her memory by running the Copenhagen Half for her in two weeks. She will be with me every step. And this is the way that will help me go on with my pain and at the same time I am able to do something for her that she would really love, and she knows that it means a lot to do this for her. And I will lay this medal with her.
It’s really hard to let go, but it’s easier when I think that she is in this beautiful flower garden that she would love. And that she will always be with me.
The day after she passed away, I was walking with my dog and I just knew that I am not meant to run the Berlin Marathon this year. And as soon as I decide that, this huge weight lifted from my shoulders and I knew that it’s exactly what I need to do know. I didn’t feel that I am giving up, it felt right and at this moment I am listening myself more than ever before. I have to be gentle to myself, but tough in the right places too.
In a month, my life changed completely. I got that change that I was dreaming of, to get to another place and hopefully be able to start a life that I dream of. I lost someone who is part of me, but I am grateful and thankful for all. I am fighting and going forward, no matter how hard it feels at times. I have come this far, and it’s not the time to give up. Just listen to yourself. Breath. Think about the positive and breath the negatives out. Be thankful. Be grateful.