Time Passages

It feels like years have passed since my grandfather went into the hospital. And I'm not kidding, literally years. Grandad passed away last Sunday after six days in palliative care . . . six days of pure Hell in the stress department. This death has been harder on me than I thought it would be, harder than my other grandfather's, more difficult even than my uncle's, which I took quite hard. And it has nothing to do with missing my grandfather or anything like that . . . I'm so happy he's no longer suffering and I know he's okay. It's my mother's pain I can't bear. She misses him. But that's not all, of course. With a family as large as hers, with so many inlaws and outlaws, with the stress of losing a loved one, tension is something to be expected in the closest of families, under the best of circumstances. Of course, it's much worse because we've got at least one genuine dark spirit in our family who thrives on causing chaos. I worry about my mother holding anger and hatred close to her heart for a long period of time. Anger is something I know about and it will take a toll on her. It will consume her, exhaust her, change her. I'm trying to talk her through it, past it. It's extremely important that she feels it, works through it, and then releases it. And I know this because there were a couple of years, not so long ago, that I traveled around in a constant simmer of rage . . . it took nothing to set me off and I saw the world through a grey filter of hate. It was a tremendous relief to let it go. I don't want my mom to go through that. It's better to feel it all at once -- scream, cry, keen -- do whatever she needs to do to get it out and away from her heart.

Mood: Surreal
Drinking: Coke
Listening To: Gavin DeGraw, Get Lost
Hair: Recently dyed, medium brown, kinda flat coat of colour