Transcendence.
My grandfather passed on the 19th. He was the last of my grandparents that was alive. Death is such a hard thing for me to grasp even now that I have lost so much family. On one hand, I know the obvious, "My grandfather is dead." Yet, it's so hard to comprehend that I'll probably not be having anymore family dinners, since my grandparents were the glue that held this family together. I'll never see my grandfather again. I'll never shake his hand again, or sit there talking with him about his business offers to me again that I always turned down. I'll never set foot in their house again after the funeral procession. It's such a disturbing thing to even think about.
I also know his passing on was the best thing for him, and what he wanted. He missed my grandmother so much, and in every waking hour, he longed to be with her. His body was ailing awfully, and he was stuck inside something that didn't work, while his mind was absolutely fine. He would say over and over again, "it should have been me who went first. I always thought it would be me." He would also say how much he wanted to die and be with my grandma.
I don't know whether to smile or cry, or both. I fly into Florida on Wednesday. Another funeral. I've been to so many in the past few years, I can't even count nor remember them all. I've seen so many people around me die. It feels like my family is slowly but surely dying off on both sides. Sure, I have cousins and all that, but I barely even know most of them. Then again, whose fault is that? My own, I guess.
Life is such a funny thing. One minute it's there, the next it isn't. It's so unstable.
I also know his passing on was the best thing for him, and what he wanted. He missed my grandmother so much, and in every waking hour, he longed to be with her. His body was ailing awfully, and he was stuck inside something that didn't work, while his mind was absolutely fine. He would say over and over again, "it should have been me who went first. I always thought it would be me." He would also say how much he wanted to die and be with my grandma.
I don't know whether to smile or cry, or both. I fly into Florida on Wednesday. Another funeral. I've been to so many in the past few years, I can't even count nor remember them all. I've seen so many people around me die. It feels like my family is slowly but surely dying off on both sides. Sure, I have cousins and all that, but I barely even know most of them. Then again, whose fault is that? My own, I guess.
Life is such a funny thing. One minute it's there, the next it isn't. It's so unstable.