On my grandfather's passing...
My grandfather's first funeral was on Saturday. The viewing was at 2pm but the immediate family (me, his grandson; his children: my mother, my aunt, my uncle; and his ex wife) came an hour early to prepare.
It's weird, having an immediate family member die. Unlike previous funerals, where the person was some distant relative I maybe met 2 times in my life, this was a close member of the family, which means that I'm a part of the entire decision process for his funerals and stuff. Which is strange being included in the behind-the-scenes stuff, like filming a depressing movie.
And I have so many people coming up and hugging and shaking my hands and saying "I'm sorry for your loss." What loss? My grandfather lived a long and fulfilling life and I only wish I could have such a life. He had a doctorate in music, he was an expert at organs, he had written several music books, written hymns and classical pieces, ran websites, helped people with computer problems. His time came, and although I wish he would have lived longer, or died in less pain (he had 2 morphine patches and a morphine drip at the end...) at least he died quickly enough and didn't suffer long. And he was pretty incoherent at the end so I don't think he realized what was coming. I'm not really that sad.
I saw my grandfather dead in his casket, at the viewing. I couldn't get used to seeing him lifeless and empty, every time I looked at him I expected him to wake up and start talking again. He was so animate, and now he's just as dead and lifeless as rock. It was the creepiest thing ever, and it unnerved me. I couldn't stand next to his casket and look at him for more than a minute at a time.
Monday we went to his church to have another funeral and memorial. Once again strangers shook my hand and acted as if they felt bad for me.
My job without question let me have this weekend off so we can bury him in St. Louis. I thought it would be a big deal to get it off but they too feel sorry for me. And yet I feel nothing.
I don't know. Life goes on I guess.
It's weird, having an immediate family member die. Unlike previous funerals, where the person was some distant relative I maybe met 2 times in my life, this was a close member of the family, which means that I'm a part of the entire decision process for his funerals and stuff. Which is strange being included in the behind-the-scenes stuff, like filming a depressing movie.
And I have so many people coming up and hugging and shaking my hands and saying "I'm sorry for your loss." What loss? My grandfather lived a long and fulfilling life and I only wish I could have such a life. He had a doctorate in music, he was an expert at organs, he had written several music books, written hymns and classical pieces, ran websites, helped people with computer problems. His time came, and although I wish he would have lived longer, or died in less pain (he had 2 morphine patches and a morphine drip at the end...) at least he died quickly enough and didn't suffer long. And he was pretty incoherent at the end so I don't think he realized what was coming. I'm not really that sad.
I saw my grandfather dead in his casket, at the viewing. I couldn't get used to seeing him lifeless and empty, every time I looked at him I expected him to wake up and start talking again. He was so animate, and now he's just as dead and lifeless as rock. It was the creepiest thing ever, and it unnerved me. I couldn't stand next to his casket and look at him for more than a minute at a time.
Monday we went to his church to have another funeral and memorial. Once again strangers shook my hand and acted as if they felt bad for me.
My job without question let me have this weekend off so we can bury him in St. Louis. I thought it would be a big deal to get it off but they too feel sorry for me. And yet I feel nothing.
I don't know. Life goes on I guess.