1. My grandmother is on her way out. Many in the family know this but have not come to terms with it. Is it easy for me to say that she is 93, has led a full life, all she can use is anything that will relax and comfort her and everyone had best deal with letting her go? Yes. Will I be so philosophical when I begin to see the mortality at the end of my tunnel? Possibly. Never denying death, not conducting a sterile existence and knowing that it can nab us at any minute may have something to do with it. My advice: You are going to die. You may get hit by a truck tomorrow or wane slowly after five years of radiation and chemotherapy. How are you going to live your now? That is the only question to contemplate. And, for god’s sake, have fun.
There is a lot more I want to say, but will narrow it down to this – D’s mom died in her 60s after a year-or-so-long battle with cancer. She went rather quickly, for which I am sad and thankful all at once. We all miss her terribly, but the grace and awareness with which D and his family accepted his mother’s death, continue to do so and have moved on is stunning. What we have of life is precious, treat it that way.
2. The car radio blasted the latest Black Eyed Peas single as I drove by an austere Amish barn. Cultural dissonance or juxtaposition and what’s the difference, I wondered. Said pondering dissipated when a Lowe’s soon came up on left.
3. All this bacon talk and now the swine flu. What happens when everyone jumps on my bandwagon.
4. Really, really, really, REALLLLY, really thankful D and I are gainfully employed. Really.
((((((hugs))))))
My great-grandma passed away when I was 27, in her own kitchen, at the age of 99. No matter how old they are or how good their health is, losing relatives is still hard, despite the rationalizing. Love can’t be easily dealt with that way.
just…You and D be well.
I am so glad your grandmother has lived such a tremendous life — it is really wonderful she is able to celebrate the last of it with dignity to the end. Really, it speaks volumes to the strength of your family. Sympathies to you and all.
Not to get all foo-foo metaphorical here, but experiencing death is like trying to handle breaking waves at the beach. You get smacked, hard, until you learn how to hop at just the right time. It still doesn’t always work; it still doesn’t save you from the next one; either way you get very, very wet :P
Dealing with those holdout relatives, and everyone else, is perhaps harder than dealing with death itself. I wish you peace and all good wishes in the coming months.