So, yesterday was fun. As most of you probably noticed in the girl's journal, yesterday was a little hectic. I took off from work just before lunch, and spend a few hours fretting before getting the girl at the doctors.
Everything's ok now, but it was a freaky day.
This weekend we took a car load of stuff out to my parent's house, and I cleaned the hell out of my room there. Threw out 3+ garbage bags of junk that was up there for no good reason.
Despite having taken a car load to my parent's, our apartment doesn't look like it was dented.
This doesn't bode well for moving.
Oh, badgers, we need to talk about that soon. help me remember.
ok. I've been trying to make this entry for almost 2 hours now. just posting it as is.
I hate work.
just got a call from my mother.
My grandfather is quite probably dying any minute now. (my dad's dad.)
I should feel some connection to this patriarch, and I do a little bit, but he was a terror when i was little and I still fear him somewhat as a result, although he's turned into this funny little old man. Retirement and aging seem to have mellowed him out.
His two kids who live in the area are there (my dad and uncle), so he has company. I don't know what I'm supposed to do/feel. Should I be there, getting in the way and sitting morosely in the living room as he dies? should I pretend it's not happening and laugh with friends at work?
I don't know.
The other day he gave me his father's old pocketwatch. He had it repaired and cleaned to give to me. My father would never have used it, so he waited till I was old enough to take care of it. My great grandfather to my grandfather to my father (sort of) to me. When he handed that to me and explained it all, I felt linked to him in a real sense for the first time ever. And that was just 2 weeks ago.
Anyway, I just needed to write something about it.
Thanks for listening.
grandfather died around 8:30
no sympathy necessary, just making a note for myself mostly.
(I'll probably be excessively morbid here for awhile, I appologize in advance.)
My grandmother died in sept '98, shortly after I started at college, and shortly after I met Meg. They never met. It's really rather sad, I think they would have liked eachother a lot.
It took me more than 5 years to go visit her grave. Not for lack of thinking about her, but I think I was scared. I don't know why. Meg and I finally went early this spring, so they sort of met.
My grandmother loved primroses. Red, with little yellow bursts in the center of each tiny flower.
I always thought they were awful 70's.