Well, I had planned on a post about why my computer at work keeps changing the name of a town to Fuquay-Vagina with a picture to accompany the text...but life kind of has a funny way of switching your thoughts from spell checking Vagina to family troubles.
For several years now my grandmother has had Alzheimer's. She's been living in a home because, as much as we wanted to keep her home, she wouldn't allow us to help her with medicine or check in on her. My parents moved her over to her own house about 7 years ago. Right beside us. My dad wanted his mother closer to him so he could spend more time with her and keep an eye on her as far as mowing the yard and taking care of her money went.
Now, she's getting into the last few days of her life I think. And I'm not the best in the reaction department when people close to me die. When my grandpa died, I cried immediately and then went into my room and watched Will and Grace and scrubs. Then made a sandwich. I absolutely loved my grandpa. He was the most awesome old guy around. He whistled 'Jingle Bells' all year long, had the scariest sneeze I have ever heard in my life, and didn't freak out when I showed him my tattoo. I miss him like hell, but I think my reaction button is broken.
So, tomorrow I'll go visit my grandma, probably for the last time, and I know I'll be sad. As I'm writing this, I don't know, I'm not crying or anything. And The Office is in the background. I know I write obituaries for the newspaper and I'm clearly aware lots of people die on a daily basis, and family members are in that group, but I don't know. I guess I think that my family members are different from this group. I don't know if that makes any sense at all. I may or may not have several Hard Lemonades during this session.
This is turning out to be quite the depressing post, huh? My next post should probably be about my great-aunt and great-uncle. They died within a few hours of each other and were in love since they were kids. I loved them too. And it's really a nice story. Except it involves two people I love...dying.
Wow. You should probably not read this and just go read another blog. I promise I will tell the story about the Fuquay-Vagina one day.
Until then, you should call your grandma and tell her she is kickass. I'm going to tell me grandma that tomorrow...because she truly is.
My blog for this post belongs to Mommy Shorts I am not a mommy, on the verge of being a mommy, and sometimes kids hate my face. I am too young and immature to try and keep another person alive. But! Sometimes I like to read about what I get to look forward to. Every horrifying moment of it.
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