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The middle: where to start

What if you knew you were immortal … as long as you never fell asleep? What if you knew that the second you hit REM, you would leave your fleshy confines, never to return?

To what lengths would you stay awake? Would you “not go gently into that good night”? Or would you do what you could to tie up loose ends before welcoming the sleep to end all sleep?

At one point in my life, there was no question that I would welcome, not fight Dylan Thomas’ “good night.” But since then, I have celebrated a few more birthdays, married my (somewhat unlikely) soulmate, and been blessed with two amazing children. I’ve managed a handful of creative accomplishments that — noteworthy or not — I am proud of. All of these things are attachments of sorts, “loose ends” I can’t tie up, no matter how much time I might be given.

But still there are days I live for sleep.

I don’t know where I’m going with this.

…

A week ago, my maternal grandfather, Grandpap R. passed away. Prior to his death, he had been in the ICU about 10 days, including a few days of heavy sedation — meaning he was unconscious.

…

As I write this, “Details in the Fabric” is playing.

“Hold your own,
know your name,
and go your own way
everything will be fine…”

…

So I went up to PA this past Wednesday & Thursday for the funeral. As strange as it might sound, it was probably the “happiest” funeral I have ever been to. That’s not to say all eyes were dry. But it was full of laughter as well. It was a family reunion.

God, I hope it’s not our last.

It was wonderful, really. I think 14 of the 16 grandchildren made it in (in addition to all 7 of his children), many of whom I haven’t seen in years. It’s strange and amazing that we’re all part of the same family. Really, in many cases we’re more different than we are the same. But then you notice his jawline, her laugh, the way the three of them stand just like their mother who got it from Grandma. … And somehow we’re all family again.

…

I think this is the first time I’ve really cried yet about this. Not that I’ve been holding back or in or anything. But I’ve been holding up and keeping busy. Not as a defense, but as a side effect of life. Even up there at the funeral, I took our youngest (and only him) since he could fly free on my lap, so I was preoccupied with him, I guess. At the viewing, it was all foreign and strange to me. The body in the casket was a wax man with too much make-up. I had absolutely no emotional attachment to him. But to the right was their wedding picture. And I got choked up over that, but that was it.

Mom pointed out that difference (between his as opposed to my grandmother’s death 18 years ago) is the difference between a full, long life well lived and one cut too short.

…

As a point of public note, I request that no roses or chrysanthemums be included in any arrangements for my funeral when that comes. Wait, no. Stick with the no chrysanthemums (mums are ok, but those big ones, no), but let’s restrict the roses to the pretty, less fragrant mini roses: the smell of roses says funeral to me. I hate it. As soon as I opened the door to the funeral home the first time there, it hit me, like a blast of hot air from inside a car that’s been sitting in the July sun all day.

I prefer lilacs be sent in lieu of roses.

I prefer donations to the pro-life charity of your choice be sent in lieu of flowers in general.

No, I’m not quite dead yet. But we never know when this information could actually be relevant.

…

Ever just feel like screaming out of frustration? I mean, I feel like I’m grinding my gears and spinning my wheels. I feel like there’s so much I’m supposed to do with my life. I feel like there’s something big out there I’m supposed to be a part of. But I don’t know what or where it is. How does one work toward a goal she can’t define?

“Go your own way.”

…which would be …?

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Only human. (expect me to err)

So, I’m aware I’ve broken my initial promise about this blog. Though I’d resolved to write at least once a week, it’s been a few minutes short of 10 days. And still, I don’t know what to write — but not for lack of content.

Where do I start?

Ok, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to post the condensed version first. Then hopefully tomorrow, or Saturday at least, I’ll bury it with something happier, though some of the following is wonderfully happy. But most is less than cheerful.

So, here’s what the last week has entailed:

  • Thurs. 4/17
    • 8:30 am – Mom calls to say Grandpap had been moved the day before from the hospital (where he’d been for over 2 weeks) to an assisted living facility for further recovery. Unfortunately, they didn’t “assist his living” so well and allowed his bloodsugar to drop dangerously low, resulting in him being taken by paramedics to the ICU. His heart was only functioning at 15%
    • 9 am – 5:45 pm – work at the office. Of course, I was planning on leaving at 5 on the dot, but the projects had been piled on that day, so I had to stay late instead of leaving early.
    • 5:50 pm – After a speedy change of clothes, I dashed to the car to drive to the concert, still hoping to get there about 6:45. Instead, I hit traffic, followed bad directions, followed more bad directions, drove around way more than necessary because of bad stupid google directions to BFE, not the concert venue. Called my husband no less than 6 times trying to get to where I needed to be. Screamed out of frustration while driving. Oh, and somewhere in there I hit a chick-fil-a drive-thru for dinner.
    • 7:28 pm – I finally arrive & jump out of the car, dash to pick up my ticket and get my butt inside. I saw Jason heading in (grey stocking cap and all) from the bus right before I did, so I figured I couldn’t be too late. (The show was to start at 7:30.)
    • 7:30-11-ish pm – I did my crazy geeky white-girl-with-no-rhythm “dance” and totally was that girl that Jason talks about on the Schubas “Did You Get My Message” audience participation track — that girl who just would not shut up! And I had no shame. (Apologies to anyone around me, really… sorta.)
    • 11 – 11:45 pm – Got a hug & a photo op from Billy, and he signed his cd for me as well as the Fire Relief cd. (He seemed happy to see I’d gotten that one.) Also bought the Makepeace Brother’s cd & got them to sign that. I headed down toward my car and the bus, and got to steal a hug from Toca & talked with him a little. They all seemed tired after the show. Then Jason peeked his head out of the bus & offered to take pictures as long as they were group shots. Not being part of a group, and not wanting to be just another picture to endure, I left a copy of SMR #2 with Toca, who agreed to give it to Jason, and I headed home.
    • 11:45-12:30 – The drive home was easier, but not without missed turns. I’ll admit, though, that I was talking with my mom, catching up on Grandpap’s condition and other things.
    • When I got home, DH was waiting up for me, though I told him he didn’t have to. It took me a while to unwind before bed, something like 2 am I think.
  • Friday 4/18 – The bigger munchkin (almost 4 now) came down with Chicken Pox. Nuff said.
  • Saturday 4/19 – My brother had his Eagle Scout Ceremony in PA. I had been holding out hope until the last minute that I might be able to work out coming up for it. The chicken pox thing dashed the last of that. I hear it went really well.
  • Sunday 4/20 – We went to church separately, due to the poxed child. That, and the 3 mystery shops I did, broke up the day a lot.
  • Monday 4/21 – I determined that chicken pox are a headache. I went into work for 2 hours before resuming watch of the diseased one.
  • Tuesday 4/22 – Ditto previous. But thank goodness for small gifts: wonderful, lovely “Details in the Fabric” single release… something to listen to while feeling sorry for myself. ha.
  • Wednesday 4/23 – Kiddo went back to school. The little one has not caught the itchies this time around, though there’s still a few more days before that’s definite.
  • Thursday 4/24 – Mom called to say Grandpap’s taken a bad turn. His heart still is only functioning at 15%, his kidneys are failing, his bloodsugar won’t stay up, and he has some kind of infection – probably pneumonia. It’s a matter of hours, days at best — or worst, depending.

So now, I’m trying to figure out how & when to go up to PA. Should I plan on getting an overpriced plane ticket? Or drive 1000 miles round trip? should I go now? or wait until he dies?

Really, that’s where I’m at right now.

I want last Thursday night back.