days like fog

​I keep waiting for all this to be over. And by over I mean go back to having one of the two pillars in my life back. I’m all done now with this morbid, horrific feeling in my chest thankyouverymuch and if it’s all the same to everyone, I’d like my grandma back please and I’d like to go back to life as usual before I was emotionally strung out on the rack and left there to rot.

If I have to hear someone else say, “You have the memories” or “how wonderful that you could be there with her” one more time I might seriously set a fire and burn all stupid platitudes in effigy. Beautiful and wonderful are not words I would use to describe the memory of watching someone I love more more than anyone except maybe my mom and daughter gasp for her last breath and turn pale and cold and clammy. Yes how wonderful that is. I feel like people are talking to someone else, not me, because I feel like they are living on the moon with the crazy things they say to console me. 

I took M to school today because that was the schedule. She didn’t even complain, probably because anything is better than sitting in a house all day while mommy sorts through thousands of old photographs and cries. She put herself to bed at 8 because that’s how not present I am now apparently. We are both sleeping in the clothes we wore all day. I’m not sure if she ate dinner or if maybe the cucumber and jello cup snacks I know she had counted. Never in her short life have we sat at home all day because it always seemed to drag on and on, but now it goes by fast and I can’t imagine what else I should be doing. Hard to believe a few weeks ago I was running around to Niagara Falls and Lake Michigan like a drunken college spring breaker while my grandma languished in a nursing home. What an ass.

I suppose I’m supposed to be sleeping at this hour so let’s see if I can stomach the flashbacks long enough to get there tonight. If that doesn’t work, a long crying spell might.

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Categories: loss and grief

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