The weight of goodbye

We buried Grandma today. She was 94 and she went peacefully, which is what everyone keeps saying as if that makes it easier. It doesn't. She taught me how to bake bread, how to read a compass, how to love someone without trying to fix them. The house smells like her perfume still. Lily of the valley. I keep expecting to hear her call from the kitchen. I know grief isn't linear. I know it comes in waves. But right now I'm standing in the ocean and I can't see the shore.