My mom has been keeping me posted on what is going on back in Ohio. We spoke today. Apparently, my grandmother is getting pretty bad. It may only be a few days now. She's on oxygen and a morphine regimen, and today they gave her something for anxiety. If (when) she dies I guess I'm going back to Ohio for the funeral. What a lovely occasion for travel.
I have said it before and I will say it again: mortality sucks. I'd avoid it, myself, if there were any conceivable way of doing so. Gran was born in 1920, I think, which makes her eighty five. I suppose some people would call that a long life, but then her mother, and her mother's mother each lived to be 101. I guess I wonder if the cigarettes lopped sixteen years off of her life. I've got two bicentennial quarters in my pocket for her. I was going to send them to her. So much for that idea. I've always wondered what it would be like to have things unfinished. Which book will I be half way through? Which movies will I be waiting to see? What projects will I have half finished. It's too bad the girls didn't make it to Chillicothe for Christmas. Gran wanted to see how big they had grown.
There's the dryer buzzer. I think I'll go hang up my stuff and attempt to catch at least a couple of Z's before I have to get ready for work.
G'night - hope you get some sleep.
my grandmother's up there too, with my aunt not far behind. i echo your sentiment, mortality does indeed suck.
Awww come on, Dear. Look at your youthful face [in your Icon I presume]. :-) Plus, does anyone think that these nice old ladies would want anyone to be sad, concerning them?
Mortality is just another part of 'life.' And young, middle aged or old.... the only 'part of life' which really matters is - right now. Sure it's trite. It's also plain old common sense.
Remember and salute all the good memories, of the departed. And then, let each death remind us anew, to live our own life, more fully. So that when our times rolls around, we'll have more great memories. And a lot less regrets.
Yes, yes, yes, it's trite. But.... did moaning about anything, ever make it better?
Written by someone blessed [or cursed] with cold, clear thinking. And I'm closer than any of you, to the 'passage.' :-)