So, I finally cried last night.
Over the dishwashing sink of my beloved but finally closing coffeeshop, I started to cry. The whole sobbing, gripping-the-counter-for-support, shoulder-shaking, snot-dripping bawl. Said cry fest paused for intermission and resumed again when E arrived.
My grandpa is dying.
He was just learning to live well, happy, loved.
Just married.
I hadn't gotten to take him out for supper yet.
He might not be around to here the results of...
I interviewed at the federal courthouse again.
It's not that I don't love my new job.
There's just some opportunities you can't pass up.
And he so wanted me to work there.
Adam had a third "episode" on Monday.
I talked about it with the lead attorney and his wife at the firm.
He apparently has a similar condition (http://www.myelitis.org/).
They suggested two neurologists.
It's been a stressful week.
I offered E a $50 gas card on Wednesday to drive over to watch Scrubs and give me a backrub, but he had to finished up a big 45%-of-grade project that night. He came last night. Instead of the gas card, he got slobbery shirt-shoulders. Backrub and a laugh still delivered. [I really do owe him gas money though...]
My back is tight again now. Filing, sleep in a slouch on my one-hour bus rides to work...
This sounds like a mournful, complaining email, but at the same time, inside, I'm thinking life is amazingly good. I'm loved. I love. I have a good job with good people. I have gotten to enjoy the last months of a one-of-a-kind business/dream. While beginning to grieve a departing loved one, he is in mind and spirit as I cherish him. As the man I am proud to call my grandfather. As a man that has proved that it's never too late to change. He has learn how to live well. Which, as I talked to the woman who hired to me, I realized he was probably intentionally doing. The internal bleed at cancerous sites in his colon and liver that are exacerbating his heart's condition could not have just been noticed. He had to have privately know about that for.... for as long as he has lived this gentler, kinder, more loving, short chapter of his remarkable life.
My grandpa is dying.
He was just learning to live well, happy, loved.
Just married.
I hadn't gotten to take him out for supper yet.
He might not be around to here the results of...
I interviewed at the federal courthouse again.
It's not that I don't love my new job.
There's just some opportunities you can't pass up.
And he so wanted me to work there.
Adam had a third "episode" on Monday.
I talked about it with the lead attorney and his wife at the firm.
He apparently has a similar condition (http://www.myelitis.org/).
They suggested two neurologists.
It's been a stressful week.
I offered E a $50 gas card on Wednesday to drive over to watch Scrubs and give me a backrub, but he had to finished up a big 45%-of-grade project that night. He came last night. Instead of the gas card, he got slobbery shirt-shoulders. Backrub and a laugh still delivered. [I really do owe him gas money though...]
My back is tight again now. Filing, sleep in a slouch on my one-hour bus rides to work...
This sounds like a mournful, complaining email, but at the same time, inside, I'm thinking life is amazingly good. I'm loved. I love. I have a good job with good people. I have gotten to enjoy the last months of a one-of-a-kind business/dream. While beginning to grieve a departing loved one, he is in mind and spirit as I cherish him. As the man I am proud to call my grandfather. As a man that has proved that it's never too late to change. He has learn how to live well. Which, as I talked to the woman who hired to me, I realized he was probably intentionally doing. The internal bleed at cancerous sites in his colon and liver that are exacerbating his heart's condition could not have just been noticed. He had to have privately know about that for.... for as long as he has lived this gentler, kinder, more loving, short chapter of his remarkable life.