I received a call on October 14th that my grandmother wasn't doing well. I'll have to admit that I've never cried so hard as I sat down and thought about her not being there anymore. My grandmother was a constant in my life growing up in Ohio. She taught me to love animals, how to find value in everything and everyone, and from her, I inherited my sweet tooth. I spent my childhood working at her barn (golf range), attending craft fairs, and countless other adventures. Staying at Nana's had always been a treat. With my sisters, I booked a ticket to Ohio for the next day and immediately ate a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Even the best self-resolve can break in a moment of stress.
Since I'm at this point in my life where I'm actively working towards making a shift, my grandmother's death hit me even harder. I kept thinking about my grandmother and wondering what she would have changed in her life. This weightloss journey was my stake in the ground where I decided that if died the next day, this wouldn't be the body and mindset I wanted to end in. I know that's morbid, but if we don't live every day like our last then what's the point?