missin you Mamaw
Short bit: I went home to celebrate my birthday with family, put in some applications, hung out with Kyle and Wa.
Long bit: We got a call on Saturday informing us that my grandparents had been in a bad car accident. They were driving back to Russelville with the mowers in the back, and two boys (only had liscenses for 2 days) came flying up over the hill, back wheels up off the ground, and spun in front of my grandparent's car. A guy on a motorcycle was way behind them, and called 911, which is essentially how we found out, because my Papaw used to be an EMT (is that the word?), and one of my family members heard on their radio.
So my Mamaw was being rushed to surgery at Georgetown hospital, but my Papaw was going to be life-flighted to UC Hospital. So my dad got in the car and drove to Cincinnati.
They ended up life-flighting my Mamaw too for some reason, and once at UC, they took out her spleen and packed her, trying to get her to clot but she wouldn't. They just had to wait for her to clot, or suffocate due to blood filling her lungs. Once the last kid got there (my Aunt Jenny from Florida), and all 6 of my Mamaw's brothers had sang to her, they took her off oxygen, and she died at 3:30am on Sunday.
My Papaw was told, and he's just in his own room (some cuts and bruises, but the doctor's say he's fine.. even though he has so much backpain he can't move), musing on life and every other little thing he can think of. You know the guy in Big Fish? That = my Papaw. Just tell's stories out the ass. When talking about Mamaw, he says to my mom:
"Becky, I just don't know what to do"
"Well Phil, you have so many other people that care about you"
"Hell, I even like some of 'em"
He's joking as much as ever, and discussing with me the fine details of how to succeed in competitive jump-roping, and how he has a toaster upstairs that he needs to sell, and how he's actually pissed that Pearl got to go to heaven have have the time of her second-life with God, and he's suck here with pains that make him feel like he's in labor. I hope he's truly at peace with all of this, and not just in shock.
So now I'm off to the Hospital to go see Dad and Papaw. Calling hours are on Friday, and funeral Saturday (coincidentally, my birthday).
And NOW I may walk over to DAAP and just ask whether I got in interior design or not, just so I can fucking KNOW and get on with my life and grieve and whatever else I need to do for Mamaw, for my life, for whatever college I have to go to... This will end up being too much stress to handle.
I just want to get in so I can tell my dad. He needs good news. His mom was the healthiest in their family as of this weeked. He needs some good news.
Long bit: We got a call on Saturday informing us that my grandparents had been in a bad car accident. They were driving back to Russelville with the mowers in the back, and two boys (only had liscenses for 2 days) came flying up over the hill, back wheels up off the ground, and spun in front of my grandparent's car. A guy on a motorcycle was way behind them, and called 911, which is essentially how we found out, because my Papaw used to be an EMT (is that the word?), and one of my family members heard on their radio.
So my Mamaw was being rushed to surgery at Georgetown hospital, but my Papaw was going to be life-flighted to UC Hospital. So my dad got in the car and drove to Cincinnati.
They ended up life-flighting my Mamaw too for some reason, and once at UC, they took out her spleen and packed her, trying to get her to clot but she wouldn't. They just had to wait for her to clot, or suffocate due to blood filling her lungs. Once the last kid got there (my Aunt Jenny from Florida), and all 6 of my Mamaw's brothers had sang to her, they took her off oxygen, and she died at 3:30am on Sunday.
My Papaw was told, and he's just in his own room (some cuts and bruises, but the doctor's say he's fine.. even though he has so much backpain he can't move), musing on life and every other little thing he can think of. You know the guy in Big Fish? That = my Papaw. Just tell's stories out the ass. When talking about Mamaw, he says to my mom:
"Becky, I just don't know what to do"
"Well Phil, you have so many other people that care about you"
"Hell, I even like some of 'em"
He's joking as much as ever, and discussing with me the fine details of how to succeed in competitive jump-roping, and how he has a toaster upstairs that he needs to sell, and how he's actually pissed that Pearl got to go to heaven have have the time of her second-life with God, and he's suck here with pains that make him feel like he's in labor. I hope he's truly at peace with all of this, and not just in shock.
So now I'm off to the Hospital to go see Dad and Papaw. Calling hours are on Friday, and funeral Saturday (coincidentally, my birthday).
And NOW I may walk over to DAAP and just ask whether I got in interior design or not, just so I can fucking KNOW and get on with my life and grieve and whatever else I need to do for Mamaw, for my life, for whatever college I have to go to... This will end up being too much stress to handle.
I just want to get in so I can tell my dad. He needs good news. His mom was the healthiest in their family as of this weeked. He needs some good news.