One short sleep past
Dec. 24th, 2014 01:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
choco_froshSo apparently my grandfather is dying. As in, as we speak.
"Well, he's 92, and his polio was flaring up," I explained to a sympathetic coworker.* And he's been losing control of bodily functions, and unable to walk, for a year or two now. From what he's hinted in conversations, I thank this may actually be a relief for him. (He's unconscious in intensive care, of course, so we can't really ask.)
Anyway, for those into that sort of thing, prayers would be appreciated: to ease his passing, for his soul, and perhaps especially for those he's leaving behind him. Mom, I guess, is going to be pretty frantic, the more so since she'll have to coordinate a transatlantic visit to go to his funeral. I suspect Uncle Bob is too. Aunt Sue is probably feeling a mixture of intense grief and a certain guilty relief that she only has to deal with ONE parent's medical/emotional/legal issues now: she perhaps needs our prayers most of all, since she has to cope not only with all the practical logistics, but also with Grandma.
Grandma, of course...well, actually, there's no of course. Grandma has been, frankly, losing her mind for unrelated causes these past years, AND has had to deal with Grandpa's parallel, physical, decline, so their relationship has--had--come under some strain; but it must still be tough on her.
If/when she remembers.
Me?
Honestly, I'm too tired, at this point in the month, to feel much of anything, except fatigue, and hunger, and occasional snarling rage at the stupidity/messed-up-ness of the world, my job, or my coworkers. We're down pretty low on the Maslow scale, here in Schreiber-land, is what I'm saying. I suspect, however, that I'd be taking Grandpa's death with a similar mix philosophical calm and guilt at not feeling grief, even if I were in my usual mental state. Lack of empathy on my part?** Or just the fact that visiting him has grown increasingly awkward for me as his health has declined? Or perhaps it's that Grandpa's *always* been old, in my lifetime, and I just accept that death happens?
Welp, regardless, I do what I can. I'll drink some port to his memory, while he's still, perhaps, in transition from this life to the next; and I'll be doing some prayer for his passing, both on this last night of Advent and in the season to come.*** And at some point perhaps I'll write more of an obituary here, for the old man with the gruff voice and friendly manner, who had been sailor, chemist, Fulbright scholar, high-powered executive, and video-game-company-consultant, but who for me was just, forever, my grandpa.
*Who was blown away by the fact that he was 92. I think he was actually 91? But anyway, it makes perfectly good sense, if you do the math on how old *I* am.
** That said, if/when one of YOU predeceases me, at least if we're under like 75, I'm going to be pretty broken up.
God only knows how I'm going to react when one of my parents dies; except that I REALLY hope I've come to a better relationship with Dad by that point, 'cause losing him while we were on the outs would be... I mean, he's in excellent shape, but I keep reminding myself that he's the same age Edward I was when the latter died, and no British king would beat that record until the 18th century.
*** Last I heard, he wanted me to read the lesson at his funeral, as well, as the only one of his grandkids who was still significantly religious.
PS: December 2014, you are officially fired now. And 2014, you'd be on notice if you weren't about to retire, even if I *didn't* suspect you'd issued us November and December's weather in the wrong order. This month has just been pure suck, for me and too many others I know and love; and this year has brought hardship and job/jobsearch/college application/finance/health stress to too many of us, as well. Having my relatives bereaved is the %$^*O&(*& cherry on top of the whipped cream of a brown, rainy Christmas, on the hot chocolate of SUCK that both month and year have brought.
"Well, he's 92, and his polio was flaring up," I explained to a sympathetic coworker.* And he's been losing control of bodily functions, and unable to walk, for a year or two now. From what he's hinted in conversations, I thank this may actually be a relief for him. (He's unconscious in intensive care, of course, so we can't really ask.)
Anyway, for those into that sort of thing, prayers would be appreciated: to ease his passing, for his soul, and perhaps especially for those he's leaving behind him. Mom, I guess, is going to be pretty frantic, the more so since she'll have to coordinate a transatlantic visit to go to his funeral. I suspect Uncle Bob is too. Aunt Sue is probably feeling a mixture of intense grief and a certain guilty relief that she only has to deal with ONE parent's medical/emotional/legal issues now: she perhaps needs our prayers most of all, since she has to cope not only with all the practical logistics, but also with Grandma.
Grandma, of course...well, actually, there's no of course. Grandma has been, frankly, losing her mind for unrelated causes these past years, AND has had to deal with Grandpa's parallel, physical, decline, so their relationship has--had--come under some strain; but it must still be tough on her.
If/when she remembers.
Me?
Honestly, I'm too tired, at this point in the month, to feel much of anything, except fatigue, and hunger, and occasional snarling rage at the stupidity/messed-up-ness of the world, my job, or my coworkers. We're down pretty low on the Maslow scale, here in Schreiber-land, is what I'm saying. I suspect, however, that I'd be taking Grandpa's death with a similar mix philosophical calm and guilt at not feeling grief, even if I were in my usual mental state. Lack of empathy on my part?** Or just the fact that visiting him has grown increasingly awkward for me as his health has declined? Or perhaps it's that Grandpa's *always* been old, in my lifetime, and I just accept that death happens?
Welp, regardless, I do what I can. I'll drink some port to his memory, while he's still, perhaps, in transition from this life to the next; and I'll be doing some prayer for his passing, both on this last night of Advent and in the season to come.*** And at some point perhaps I'll write more of an obituary here, for the old man with the gruff voice and friendly manner, who had been sailor, chemist, Fulbright scholar, high-powered executive, and video-game-company-consultant, but who for me was just, forever, my grandpa.
*Who was blown away by the fact that he was 92. I think he was actually 91? But anyway, it makes perfectly good sense, if you do the math on how old *I* am.
** That said, if/when one of YOU predeceases me, at least if we're under like 75, I'm going to be pretty broken up.
God only knows how I'm going to react when one of my parents dies; except that I REALLY hope I've come to a better relationship with Dad by that point, 'cause losing him while we were on the outs would be... I mean, he's in excellent shape, but I keep reminding myself that he's the same age Edward I was when the latter died, and no British king would beat that record until the 18th century.
*** Last I heard, he wanted me to read the lesson at his funeral, as well, as the only one of his grandkids who was still significantly religious.
PS: December 2014, you are officially fired now. And 2014, you'd be on notice if you weren't about to retire, even if I *didn't* suspect you'd issued us November and December's weather in the wrong order. This month has just been pure suck, for me and too many others I know and love; and this year has brought hardship and job/jobsearch/college application/finance/health stress to too many of us, as well. Having my relatives bereaved is the %$^*O&(*& cherry on top of the whipped cream of a brown, rainy Christmas, on the hot chocolate of SUCK that both month and year have brought.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-24 07:50 am (UTC)If I can do anything, let me know.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-25 06:32 am (UTC)As of press, incidentally, Grandpa is still unconscious but breathing. (Or at least, that was true when last my Aunt emailed Mom and she emailed us.) So he may die on Christmas. I, as usual, am very tired and yet still up, yet will be setting up gaylords again (or whatever) in less than twelve hours.
no subject
Date: 2014-12-25 07:37 am (UTC)*many, many hugs*
Keep me posted.