#mourining

Before I first saw big hero 6 I tohught he film would be warmed over MCU. I was suprised to see such a mature fun movie that dealt with loss and how to cope with it.

That spare room… 

Well yesterday me and my husband did our dreaded visit to the ivf clinic. This time though I was ready, I was so so positive. Now it’s our time  I told myself as I walked in, all broody looking at the baby pictures and thank you cards on the wall. I was even thinking about how we would decorate our spare room for the little one. Thinking about names, thinking about holding him or her in my arms…

And though I remember kissing his cold forehead and laying the white sheet over his silent body, my grandfather is still dying. All my worldly possessions have been whittled down to fit neatly in the corner of my uncle’s shed. There was nowhere else to keep them. The rooms have been emptied—their contents sold off, given away, thrown out, or claimed by my mother and uncle. Even the old man’s smell has been washed away. The smallest sounds echo through the house like a canyon. At night, the cat wails. Ceaselessly. The bare walls are closing in around her. I feel it too. In my sleep, I’ve been grating my teeth and often dream of intruders in the house. Once, lying in bed, I even became possessed by his dying moments—unable to move, short of breath, my mouth and throat bone dry, my heart pounding hard and slow. I still can’t explain it. Preparing the house to be sold has been strange. We’ve gone through the motions like we know what is going on, but inside, none of us can really comprehend what it means to separate with this tangible symbol of him, of his legacy. Thought it has been months, my mother, without seeming to notice, continues to speak about him in the present tense.

The other day I went to climb to the roof, where for years I had escaped to reflect and write, only to be reminded that his radio tower had been dismantled and removed, and with it my way up. All my life that thing had defined this place, and now it is gone. It will never come back. Only with time can this begin to make sense. And that's okay. This house is a ghost. And my grandfather is still dying.

Saying that this past week came from hell is an understatement.

On Friday evening of last week, I got a phone call saying that my Grandmother was most-likely not going to make it through the night. Hurrying out of the beauty salon, where I finally got my hair cut, I got ready to head north to CT to visit her. About 30 minutes later, I got a phone call saying I was too late. That's been my luck lately.

Though my Grandmother was 97 years old, she lead such an inspiring life & I wasn't anywhere near ready to (selfishly) let her go. At 97, she was still wearing high heals EVERY DAY. Still got her weekly manicure. Still carried her lipstick on her & applied it at least every hour. She never ever complained, never talked about her past & always offered a hand to hold, & a good dirty joke or two for a good laugh. She was absolutely the Queen of mine (and my family's) world and has such an accomplished life to be proud of.  Making it out of Germany at 18 years old - escaping from the holocaust -  losing her mother at 8 years old - losing her sister upon making it to the United States - building her new life here - finding her sister - finding her true love - creating a family - keeping it together as their anchor - becoming a grandmother - making it through various wars and hatred - NEVER COMPLAINED. Always lived in the present & eager for the future. My grandmother was so devoted - so loved - and it really  showed at her funeral and shiva services, where our family was showered with people who loved her as we do.

At one of the shiva services, we found out that another relative had passed away of a sudden stroke. This one too sudden -- too young. He had too much life to live -- this one was tragic. Services are today and tomorrow.

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On the flip side, I was offered a job yesterday doing Public Relations part-time. I've been given a few offers this week, however none that are a) full-time or b) pay enough for me to live on my own & cover my own gas. I suppose that's just our economy though.

I know it's going to be difficult working two jobs (I'm keeping my position as a cheerleading director), but as long as I keep reminding myself that having my own cheer team is a HOBBY and PASSION, I think I'll be okay.