Guilt of Moving On

Sarah Kim
Sarah Kim
Sep 5, 2018 · 4 min read
Circa 2008

A year ago today was the day I found out that my grandma had terminal brain cancer. On that day, my world was absolutely scattered. For those who don’t know, I was raised by my grandma; she was basically my mom, the best one I could’ve ever asked for. Ever since I can remember, my biggest fear had been of losing her. I was always aware of the inevitably of this, due to her old age, but I always hoped that she’d see me get married and start a family of my own (what most people expect from their moms). And I’d prayed to whichever spirit/power I believed in during various stages of my life, that her cause of death would be merely because of her heart beated the maximum number of times it could. Not because of any diseases or illnesses. But of course, life doesn’t work that way.

I was pretty much in denial of her diagnosis until her symptoms grew worse and worse. It got to the point where I could tell the tumor had completely taken over and she wasn’t there anymore. During her last month of life, she couldn’t even recognize me.

Ever since John McCain lost his own battle with brain cancer last week, emotions flared up within me and made me think of my grandma the most I’ve had in months. Then, this enormous wave of guilt overcame me: my life has gone back to normal after just weeks since her funeral in January. Why am I not constantly thinking about her anymore? When she was alive, she’d tell me how I am always on her mind, whether we are sitting right next to each other or whether there are three different time zones between us. So how dare I move on so quickly. The thing that makes me the most guilty is not dropping out a semester of/delaying grad school so I could be with her. This woman would’ve moved mountains for me, but would I have return the favor?

I know logically that she would’ve wanted me to continue living, But that doesn’t diminish the guilt I feel for doing so. I can be okay for weeks and months, but when the littlest detail, such as the shade of lipstick she used to wear, that reminds me of her, a tsunami hits.

So maybe I’m wrong, maybe I haven’t moved on because it still hurts like hell. But why do I feel so damn guilty of the idea of moving on?

Maybe I am one step closer to being okay again. For the first time since her funeral in January, I’m able to read the eulogy I gave at the service, in its entirety without crying so much to the point where it blurs my vision and prevents me from reading it.

There aren’t enough words in the universe to adequately describe how much my grandma meant to me. Not only did she raise three kids of her own, but she also raised me. From the time I was born, she took on the role of my mother, and she molded me into the woman I am today. She was the first person to realize my full potential, and she knew from early on that my disability won’t stop me from achieving greatness. For the person I was, for the person I am today, and for the person I’m becoming, I have my grandma to thank.

Grandma was the strong foundation that has always supported my family. She was the one who has the strongest faith and devotion to God, and with her prayers, my family had nothing to fear. She had the power to lighten up even the darkest of all days, and fill the room up with her sense of humor, coupled with her prestige charisma. My family and I would always go to her for answers, and she always had the right thing to say.

One of my first memories is of the time when my dad visited me and my grandparents for the first time in Hawaii. At that time, my dad seemed like a scary stranger to me, so I hid behind Grandma’s back the whole time he was there. This became my grandma’s roles in my life: a shield, a armor, a protector. Whenever I was embraced in her arms, I knew that nothing in the world could hurt me. She had a ‘medicine hand’ that cured any sickness I had.

She also showed me tough love that ultimately gave me strength and perseverance. I remember when I was in the second grade, she scolded at me when I got one word wrong on a spelling test, or one problem wrong on a math test. She taught me the importance of academics, and made me push beyond the limits that others had set for me. That has stayed with me all through these years, and has gotten me to graduate from Barnard, and now to finish my master’s degree at Columbia.

Grandma lived her life to the fullest, even through her battle with cancer. She has always been the strongest female role model in my life. I can only hope that I’ll live up to her legacy. I am deeply saddened that she is no longer here with us on earth, but I know that her spirit will always be alive within me. Now, she is in the hands of our almighty Father in heaven, and is reunited once again with Grandpa.

I love you, Halmoni.

I’ll never stop missing or loving you.

Sh*t Sarah Says

Adventures of a twenty-something woman of color with a disability just trying to live her best life in NYC.

Sarah Kim

Written by

Sarah Kim

formerly: writer at @dosomething | now: graduate student at Columbia Journalism School | social media: @sarahskkim

Sh*t Sarah Says

Adventures of a twenty-something woman of color with a disability just trying to live her best life in NYC.

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