I never went to a funeral until I was 16. It was my grandmother's, and the funeral home was located right next to a day care. I didn't attend another one until I was 22, for my other grandfather. Now, a year and a half later, there's a third funeral to visit. I hope all of my friends and family realize the pattern here, and act accordingly. I'm sure someone near you has an old bomb shelter from the 60s, full of vienna sausages and tang. Move there, lock the door, and pray that my reign of terror comes to an end soon.
As I said yesterday, my grandfather died over the weekend and I'm feeling ill-at-ease trying to deal with the whole thing. He passed his last name down to me and contributed 1/4 of my genes, but I never knew him. It's not like he was off on a battleship in the Indian Ocean for all of that; he was twenty minutes away the entire time. That's what makes this difficult to reconcile. If I had to summarize it, what I'm experiencing right now is a combination of frustration, sadness, and relief. Frustrated he didn't want to know me, saddened that this is the ending it came to, and relieved that, at the very least, I won't have this hanging over my head anymore. He had his reasons, I suppose. Others have more of a right to be upset with him than I do, but I hope he knows that tonight, he is on my mind. It's the closest we'll be getting for a while.
Back to slightly less depressing matters tomorrow.
Posted by Cody at December 6, 2004 6:57 PM