Crazy EmotionsI was thinking of what I could write about today without being morbid. After reading Iggy’s post it started to crawl on me, that ugly-sad feeling of facing my grandmother’s death on my return home. I was there when they buried her and that passed by so quickly. Get off plane, sleep, and wake-up and go bury woman who raised you and get back on plane to NYC. Yes, I was in shock.
Now I go back home in hopes of closing some open wounds that have slightly started to open up more and more over the past two months. I think of Spaceman and Iggy and wonder if their wounds are also starting to open at this time, being that it is a time often spent with family and friends.
My grandmother’s home, the home that I always felt to be mine is now empty. It’s was being fixed up and now it’s ready to rent to some strangers. I sometimes call the old phone number in hopes of maybe her picking up, but all I get is the disconnected number lady. All my life I have been able to call that number and find some hope, a story, a laugh, and a place to be vulnerable. Now, well now I dial the number and a lady picks up telling me this number is no good...how can it be no good when it was so great all my life?
In closing, I leave you with this quote:
Death, you bastard, for making life so empty.