Because

This week I’m done with everything.
For a change, it’s not depression.
It’s stress and tiredness and a little bit of grief.
My maternal grandmother died this week, see. When everyone else was drinking and laughing and counting down the seconds to 2013, my mother sat in a room with my grandmother and her family counting her breaths.

In.

Out.

I haven’t had the best of relationships with my mother’s parents. I hadn’t seen them for something like six years. At least. The problem wasn’t most of the common ones, I guess. It isn’t because of my religious views or my political views.

The problem was just because my grandparents are were are old and ill and a little paranoid and worried about losing their daughter, so they lashed out at her husband.
The problem was just that even though my grandparents have so many other relatives, they couldn’t handle losing one.
Which I guess I can understand. My mom and I aren’t always on the best of terms, but she’s an amazing woman, and everything makes me think of her. She sees the best in everyone and worries too much. She loves gardening and drawing. She looks like a movie star – a gracefully aging one. So I can understand how it would be difficult to let someone like that go.

In.

Out.

I’m still working through a lot of this in my head, and I’m still trying to figure out why.
My grandmother died of a brain tumor. She’d been through four years of on and off chemo, and couldn’t do it anymore. So they disconnected the tubes, gave her morphine, and let her rest.
And at the end, my mother arrived in time to sing her to the final sleep. They let her have that. My mom was tired and had been driving all night. She was worried about the reception with my grandparents. She was worried about our family, because we were a state away. But she stayed up all night (my mom who goes to sleep at 8 pm in the middle of movies) and sang to her own mom.

In.

Out.

At the funeral we had speakers. I learned more about my mom’s mom in a few hours than I ever had. I got to meet my mom’s cousins, and my second cousins. I didn’t make an idiot of myself, nor did any of my family. My mom and I had been up the night previous reading through old genealogies and family histories.

My mom tells the stories, you see. She remembers the funny things, the weird things, the touching things. And it felt like the first time I got to know my grandmother was after her death.

In.

Out.

So this week I’m just going to cope. I’m going to sit here and watch Supernatural, and drink. I’m going to go to the movies with my parents. I’m going to pet my dog.
Because it’s the little things that are important, but you can’t get over-cluttered with them. Because there will always be time until the time that there won’t be.
Because.