When my grandpa died, I couldn't cry. I just couldn't. He meant the world to me. He was my playmate, my best friend, my dad (because my father died long before grandpa), my guide... As time went by, I understood that I missed him so much, that I was reluctant to admit that he was gone. But he was. And still, he's here with me. He is with me everytime I play chess or domino or poker. He's with me when I look up at the stars and remember what he taught me about constellations and satellites.

All the tears I swallowed back then, came like a tsunami years after he was gone. I still cry sometimes and I dream about him a lot. Next year it will be 20 years without him. This kind of loss you'll learn to live with, but you will always miss your grandma.

So, honor her the way you can and the way you want, but be sure that you're not in denial, but the longer it takes you to cope with this, the harder reallity will slap you in the face.

I'm deeply sorry for your loss and as I said, I have an idea of what it's like. But I truly believe, like J.K. Rowling said in the voice of Dumbledore "do you think the dead we loved will ever truly leave us?"

Hugs.