Hmm...
As My Chemical Romance opined in their song of the same title, I'm not okay... But then, I find myself not NOT okay... I'm not entirely sure what I am. My grandma June is dead. It wasn't necessarily sudden, she's apparently been racked with cancer, and doing nothing whatsoever to treat it. But at the same time, to listen to her, she's also been dying for upwards of five, maybe ten years. And when a person chooses to play head games with you instead of giving you straight answers, like what kind of cancer is it, what's the prognosis, how long do you have, etc., well, we knew she could go anytime between yesterday and five years from now. She chose yesterday, evidently.
I'm still not certain what I'm feeling. Part of the problem is, to put it bluntly, a nastier woman never drew breath. For every good memory I have, there are at least two more where she was fucking with us, or perhaps even worse, my mom. She was one of those people who liked to push everyone away, seeing just exactly how far she could push and still have them come crawling back. In order, she managed to find and push past that point with my aunt Diane (who is also not expected to make it to Christmas), my sister, my uncle Mike (Dori's husband, not Diane's of the same name), my dad, my mom, and my brother and I. My mom told her the last time we saw her that she wasn't going to be coming back out there, she wasn't going to answer phone calls, or read letters, she was done. So there are a lot of moving parts here.
I'm reminded of those elementary school exercises, where the whole class answers back to the teacher... "Okay, kids, when we get an ice cream cone, we feel? HAPPY! Very good! And when our grandmother dies, we feel? SAD! That's right!" When your grandmother dies, you're supposed to feel SAD. So the fact that I don't, even though she was such a... just a terrible, miserable person, it's very hard to override that part of your brain that is wired that way, and is subsequently asking what the hell is wrong with you that you're NOT sad. But again, I'm not NOT sad either. I really don't know what I'm feeling, I took the day off work to try and wrap my head around it, and I think I might well need to take tomorrow as well. Heh... The fact that she's managing to fuck with our heads even from beyond the grave, that's interesting.
So yeah. I'm not feeling the "normal" feelings, and there is to be no memorial, I mean, after a messed up visit with her, I left without saying goodbye (I suppose Mom kind of stole the thunder when she told her that she was done), and that's the last time I saw her... So I suppose, I'm SUPPOSED to be feeling guilt for that. Maybe she hoovered down a handful of pills in the night, in which case, maybe I'm indirectly responsible for her suicide? I don't know, I don't know any of that, and I'm not sitting here feeling guilty about maybes or might-haves. I'm really not, just kind of brainstorming. Again, everything that you're supposed to feel when something like this happens, it's just not there. And social convention dictates it so hard, it's difficult to get out of that headspace.
I don't know. Haven't done much besides eat pasta and just kind of bum around today. Guess that's what I need to do. I want to visit my grandma's grave, the other grandma, that is, and I have finally found where my grandpa's remains have been interred. I guess more to come later.
I'm still not certain what I'm feeling. Part of the problem is, to put it bluntly, a nastier woman never drew breath. For every good memory I have, there are at least two more where she was fucking with us, or perhaps even worse, my mom. She was one of those people who liked to push everyone away, seeing just exactly how far she could push and still have them come crawling back. In order, she managed to find and push past that point with my aunt Diane (who is also not expected to make it to Christmas), my sister, my uncle Mike (Dori's husband, not Diane's of the same name), my dad, my mom, and my brother and I. My mom told her the last time we saw her that she wasn't going to be coming back out there, she wasn't going to answer phone calls, or read letters, she was done. So there are a lot of moving parts here.
I'm reminded of those elementary school exercises, where the whole class answers back to the teacher... "Okay, kids, when we get an ice cream cone, we feel? HAPPY! Very good! And when our grandmother dies, we feel? SAD! That's right!" When your grandmother dies, you're supposed to feel SAD. So the fact that I don't, even though she was such a... just a terrible, miserable person, it's very hard to override that part of your brain that is wired that way, and is subsequently asking what the hell is wrong with you that you're NOT sad. But again, I'm not NOT sad either. I really don't know what I'm feeling, I took the day off work to try and wrap my head around it, and I think I might well need to take tomorrow as well. Heh... The fact that she's managing to fuck with our heads even from beyond the grave, that's interesting.
So yeah. I'm not feeling the "normal" feelings, and there is to be no memorial, I mean, after a messed up visit with her, I left without saying goodbye (I suppose Mom kind of stole the thunder when she told her that she was done), and that's the last time I saw her... So I suppose, I'm SUPPOSED to be feeling guilt for that. Maybe she hoovered down a handful of pills in the night, in which case, maybe I'm indirectly responsible for her suicide? I don't know, I don't know any of that, and I'm not sitting here feeling guilty about maybes or might-haves. I'm really not, just kind of brainstorming. Again, everything that you're supposed to feel when something like this happens, it's just not there. And social convention dictates it so hard, it's difficult to get out of that headspace.
I don't know. Haven't done much besides eat pasta and just kind of bum around today. Guess that's what I need to do. I want to visit my grandma's grave, the other grandma, that is, and I have finally found where my grandpa's remains have been interred. I guess more to come later.