(no subject)
I was wrong. I'm losing my shit again because now there are memorial plans, we have plane tickets, hotel reservations. This is real. It's not supposed to be. This is a bad dream, or a bad movie, or a bad fiction-of-some-variety. This is not my actual life. Except it is.
I can't look at photos of her. I start to hyperventilate again at even the thought.
I remember when my dad's mother passed away and I went to her funeral. I was, I don't know, ten or so. It wasn't real either. Then I saw her in the casket and I freaked out and couldn't even look. My mother's mother when I was 20. Again, the casket. My mother wanted cremation and made sure we all knew that. Her wish was granted today. No casket. Thankfully, because this is going to be damn hard enough without having to see her shell.
I know I'm a Debbie Downer on your friends list and nobody wants to read all this crap but it's the only thing keeping me remotely sane, this and the kids distracting the hell out of me. At least I'm actually getting shit done around the house, all of a sudden doing the laundry is appealing compared to sitting around moping.
I can't look at photos of her. I start to hyperventilate again at even the thought.
I remember when my dad's mother passed away and I went to her funeral. I was, I don't know, ten or so. It wasn't real either. Then I saw her in the casket and I freaked out and couldn't even look. My mother's mother when I was 20. Again, the casket. My mother wanted cremation and made sure we all knew that. Her wish was granted today. No casket. Thankfully, because this is going to be damn hard enough without having to see her shell.
I know I'm a Debbie Downer on your friends list and nobody wants to read all this crap but it's the only thing keeping me remotely sane, this and the kids distracting the hell out of me. At least I'm actually getting shit done around the house, all of a sudden doing the laundry is appealing compared to sitting around moping.