Mourning Morgantown (The Song Joni Mitchell Never Sang...)

Early this week, my mother's mother passed away quickly and quietly.  The peace she sought for so many years is finally at hand.   Wishing desperately to feel glad for her peace, those of us left behind feel overwhelming grief at the loss of a brilliant woman and a loving family member, anger at the world for taking her so suddenly, and disquiet because of the Rosemary-shaped hole left in our lives.

Introverts are either intensely graceful in grief, or (inadvertently and without intent) terribly offensive in grief.  Most of us are a combination of both in turns.  Don't mistake our quiet for lack of feeling.   Don't mistake brooding and processing for stonewalling.  The depth of sorrow takes a toll on our ability to express anything useful, and you know that your Introvert wants to make social time of any sort as productive and useful as possible.

My grandmother loved to provoke me into thoughtful arguments, providing the most useful and productive social times and memories of my life.  She taught me things that no one else really could.  She will always be missed.