An actual JOURNAL-Entry! O:
So yeah, I realized that twice in a row I've only posted random stuff. Need to change that.
This weekend was kind off... Meh. I was working (which was a great relief from helping out at a school... <.<; ) Thankfully, though, since I work so rarely (I'm a clerk in a supermarket), I actually get kicks from working and the days just seem to flow by. It feels nice to have a stable, regular thing like it in the otherwise chaotic life of University...
So yesterday, as I was working, the thought struck me. I hadn't been to my grandparents' graves for ages. And then another thought, I'd never been there by my own free will. I felt REALLY bad about it, because I know how important it is for the family.
It's like this. I'm living in Stockholm, which is FAR from the place where I grew up. Not VERY far, but far (about 1½ hour of commuting to get there) and the only thing that keeps me from abandoning the general area entirely is my job. I've got some relatives there, as well as my dad ('though he's a bit away from there... it's hard to describe, I might upload a map or something), but I don't feel like actually living there anymore. Lately, there's been a HUGE uprising in criminality, there's a lot of stuff vandalised and heck, it's gone from idyllic to hell in just a couple of years.
My mothers mother died when mom was 6 years old and my fathers father and mothers mothers father had their ashes spread in the memorial park there. I think it was about 2-3 years since I last paid a visit there, and that may even be too short. I've always been a person living in the now, and somehow I feel bad about thinking too much about the past (maybe 'cause whenever I do I get sad by how BETTER things were when you were a kid. i.e. how carefree and less cynical you were) and graveyards sort of... yeah.
So I bought a couple of wax-candles, took a buss up to the church and visited my grandmas grave first. I talked a little bit, felt generally silly and then just broke out crying. Now, I AM a crybaby, I cry a LOT, but I was just filled with memories about my greatgrandmother telling me again and again how lonely she was. It wasn't until I visited my grandmas grave that I realized what she meant. She's 87 years old or so, she can barely move anymore and both her husband and daughter are long gone. We rarely have the time to visit and most people at her home are too weak or too "not-there" to offer any form of good conversation.
I also thought about my mom and aunt, and my grampa, and just... damn, I can't really explain how odd it felt.
I told her about how I've moved away from home, my studies, how my sis was doing(and her boyfriend, I think she would've liked him) and just more or less anything. I told her how my mom was doing her best, how her(grandmas) mom had helped to raise us and how much everyone missed her. I then told her about my plans with my sex-change and I asked if she'd agree to letting me have her name(Monica). It blew a lot that day, so I had to shield the candle from going out, but I put it in a relatively shielded place. "If it's still burning when I come back, it's okay with you." I sorta told/asked her and hoped she would agree.
After that I paid a little visit to the other two dead guys. My fathers father I knew only a little, and what I've heard about him completely clashes with what I've experienced myself. Let's just keep it at the fact that he wasn't the best of fathers.
My greatgrandfather was VERY sick during the entire time I knew him, and he rarely moved from his bed or the couch where he was watching TV. Apparantly, he was really strong, really kind and just generally awesome... but the only things I remember about him is how he was always angry, bitter and rarely spoke when he wasn't yelling at me and my sis to be quiet when we used to play. I remember shouting back at him once, and it hurts when I realize that it was his medication, his feeling of helplessness and the bitterness of knowing that his life could end any day that made him like he was. I deeply regret never talking too him that much.
I didn't have much to say to either of them though, just couldn't come up with any words, so I lit the other candles there (a lot of them had been blown out by the wind) and stood for a while. After that, I went back and when I passed my gran's grave, the candle was still burning. It felt reassuring.
Anyway, right now I'm going through my appartment and doing a SERIOUS clean-up, it's needed. I'm going to try to start planning my days a bit more, like for example having a clean-up every Saturday, doing the dishes thrice/twice a week, etc. I think I would save a lot of time, grief and angst if I did that.
Oh, and I got a couple of magazines from my store too, special issues of keeping hair healthy and making it grow faster. I kinda regret cutting it, even though people DO say I look better now, and I'm going to be saving for that pony-tail again, and this time I'm going to take real good care of it.
This weekend was kind off... Meh. I was working (which was a great relief from helping out at a school... <.<; ) Thankfully, though, since I work so rarely (I'm a clerk in a supermarket), I actually get kicks from working and the days just seem to flow by. It feels nice to have a stable, regular thing like it in the otherwise chaotic life of University...
So yesterday, as I was working, the thought struck me. I hadn't been to my grandparents' graves for ages. And then another thought, I'd never been there by my own free will. I felt REALLY bad about it, because I know how important it is for the family.
It's like this. I'm living in Stockholm, which is FAR from the place where I grew up. Not VERY far, but far (about 1½ hour of commuting to get there) and the only thing that keeps me from abandoning the general area entirely is my job. I've got some relatives there, as well as my dad ('though he's a bit away from there... it's hard to describe, I might upload a map or something), but I don't feel like actually living there anymore. Lately, there's been a HUGE uprising in criminality, there's a lot of stuff vandalised and heck, it's gone from idyllic to hell in just a couple of years.
My mothers mother died when mom was 6 years old and my fathers father and mothers mothers father had their ashes spread in the memorial park there. I think it was about 2-3 years since I last paid a visit there, and that may even be too short. I've always been a person living in the now, and somehow I feel bad about thinking too much about the past (maybe 'cause whenever I do I get sad by how BETTER things were when you were a kid. i.e. how carefree and less cynical you were) and graveyards sort of... yeah.
So I bought a couple of wax-candles, took a buss up to the church and visited my grandmas grave first. I talked a little bit, felt generally silly and then just broke out crying. Now, I AM a crybaby, I cry a LOT, but I was just filled with memories about my greatgrandmother telling me again and again how lonely she was. It wasn't until I visited my grandmas grave that I realized what she meant. She's 87 years old or so, she can barely move anymore and both her husband and daughter are long gone. We rarely have the time to visit and most people at her home are too weak or too "not-there" to offer any form of good conversation.
I also thought about my mom and aunt, and my grampa, and just... damn, I can't really explain how odd it felt.
I told her about how I've moved away from home, my studies, how my sis was doing(and her boyfriend, I think she would've liked him) and just more or less anything. I told her how my mom was doing her best, how her(grandmas) mom had helped to raise us and how much everyone missed her. I then told her about my plans with my sex-change and I asked if she'd agree to letting me have her name(Monica). It blew a lot that day, so I had to shield the candle from going out, but I put it in a relatively shielded place. "If it's still burning when I come back, it's okay with you." I sorta told/asked her and hoped she would agree.
After that I paid a little visit to the other two dead guys. My fathers father I knew only a little, and what I've heard about him completely clashes with what I've experienced myself. Let's just keep it at the fact that he wasn't the best of fathers.
My greatgrandfather was VERY sick during the entire time I knew him, and he rarely moved from his bed or the couch where he was watching TV. Apparantly, he was really strong, really kind and just generally awesome... but the only things I remember about him is how he was always angry, bitter and rarely spoke when he wasn't yelling at me and my sis to be quiet when we used to play. I remember shouting back at him once, and it hurts when I realize that it was his medication, his feeling of helplessness and the bitterness of knowing that his life could end any day that made him like he was. I deeply regret never talking too him that much.
I didn't have much to say to either of them though, just couldn't come up with any words, so I lit the other candles there (a lot of them had been blown out by the wind) and stood for a while. After that, I went back and when I passed my gran's grave, the candle was still burning. It felt reassuring.
Anyway, right now I'm going through my appartment and doing a SERIOUS clean-up, it's needed. I'm going to try to start planning my days a bit more, like for example having a clean-up every Saturday, doing the dishes thrice/twice a week, etc. I think I would save a lot of time, grief and angst if I did that.
Oh, and I got a couple of magazines from my store too, special issues of keeping hair healthy and making it grow faster. I kinda regret cutting it, even though people DO say I look better now, and I'm going to be saving for that pony-tail again, and this time I'm going to take real good care of it.