and I'm always alone.
Oct. 11th, 2010 06:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
miserywhipHard to say what got my attention.
I won't let this build up inside of me...
And just to avoid making another post in the same five minute period.
I suppose I should make a brief warning since I have a few new people reading now, but- I guess you could say I have a bit of an obsession with death.
I like to recognize anniversaries of deaths in my family, or the birthday of a lost family member - whether people or animals. I might not post on the same day every year, I think everyone knows I get a little crazy and withdrawn on March 3rd but I believe today is actually a lesser known date.
But- if that sort of thing is going to bother you, I do have a 'death' tag for any time I make mention of a passing so you can avoid those posts if you want. It will usually just be a quick note, dates and a quick 'happy birthday' or 'I miss you' type message. Sometimes, it's a bit lengthy and more involved though... kind of like tonight.
May 27, 1914 - October 11, 2002
Why is it that high school feels closer to two years ago than the six that it really was?
I miss watching you check your blood before dinner, I miss the stupid little figures that came in the tea boxes. The bright Crayola clay that my grandmother didn't want me playing with and watching Joey make those gross bugs that stuck on the windows.
I miss the calligraphy sets and dancing around in your living room or kitchen while you were off in another room oblivious to my antics. Back then I was so reluctant to give up my tapes for CDs, and here I am a decade later refusing to give up my CDs for an ipod. I feel like you're the only person in this whole family I ever really had any alone time with and that's because you spent so much time alone and I always made a point of coming next door to see you instead of staying in my own house or calling you to come over when grandma said it was time for dinner.
For ten years I thought the worst thing I could experience was her death on my birthday, but you were buried on Dan's and then less than six months later grandpa died on his own.
The saddest part is that what I miss most isn't any of that. It's after they put you in the nursing home, when we would all get together for holidays at your son's house, everyone gathered around and you so out of it you can't remember who the hell your grandchildren even are anymore. But you always smiled at me, you always remembered me through all of that, not your own grandchildren and it made me feel important for once in my life. That I was the one who stuck out, that I was the one you remembered. That when they were shoving Andrea at you, it was my hand you refused to let go of... as much as the grip hurt sometimes.
I miss your coffee colored house. Everyone likes the new blue, and the extension on the front but I always had a bad habit of holding onto the past. I hate looking at the safe haven I once had, and knowing that it's now off limits. I cringe every time I go to my father's house because it's right there and no longer part of our family like it was for nearly fifty years.
Every time I look at my snake I think about the one you found in your garden and gave to me when I was a kid. The one that we thought was dead until it started moving, and I wonder what you'd think if you knew that I had a pet snake living in my house now. Somehow I think you'd just laugh about it, because both of you were far more understanding about my weird tastes than my own immediate family. I wonder sometimes how you two weren't really my grandparents... we had so much more in common.
I bought some Breyer's Mint chip ice cream last week, and haven't stopped thinking about you since. I've been meaning to get some coffee too, last year that was all I asked for for my birthday. It's kind of funny how I keep coming full circle without even thinking about it.
It's kind of funny how when you died I didn't cry for days, and when I did I sobbed so fully and uncontrollably for such a short amount of time. I don't cry for you every year like I do for grandpa, I don't get withdrawn and moody like I do for Aunt Mary. Every year this weekend passes with little more thought than that Dan's birthday is around now. And randomly, eight years later we found the prayer card given out at your funeral while cleaning. After I bought that ice cream and explained to my mother that when I was little I thought it was white because it was sugar free, and not just because that's how that company makes their ice cream.
I wasn't alone the year you died, I had someone to hold me while I cried - as sudden and short as it was three days later... but now eight years later, I'm alone and cried such a fit of tears I was starting to thinkt they weren't going to stop.
I'll never know if any of that meant half as much to you as it did to me, but thank you for making me feel valued when everyone else just made me feel like an outcast. Your family has always been one of the best parts of my life, and I know it's because you raised them.
I still haven't properly digested the information around Jon's death, to really post about it. Which might have something to do with me dwelling on and processing a loss I never really did this for despite it being eight years now.
I spent today with their baby, trying to ignore the theory going around that he did it because he got a call he couldn't handle. A call to say that someone else was pregnant with his kid, because that's really not a very good reason for such an extreme action. My grandmother sat and insisted that the baby looks just like her father and I just ignored her as best I could because I don't want to spend the rest of this girl's life seeing him in her face.
At the wake I did realize that I really missed out on seeing a lot of his good aspects. Of being part of something positive with him, while he was still here. But if I knew him and cared about him like everyone else did it would complicate things and right now I just want to be angry with him for doing this to his family. Leaving his daughter with no memories or reason for her loss. I suppose a note would have been too much to ask for...
I was three years old when my mother decided to kill herself. Only because she said goodbye to me first, did she change her mind and come home... and that is why I will never understand people who can love their family so much and still leave them with nothing just like that.
but- yeah. 6:30 am... Time for bed before I never shut up.
I won't let this build up inside of me...
And just to avoid making another post in the same five minute period.
I suppose I should make a brief warning since I have a few new people reading now, but- I guess you could say I have a bit of an obsession with death.
I like to recognize anniversaries of deaths in my family, or the birthday of a lost family member - whether people or animals. I might not post on the same day every year, I think everyone knows I get a little crazy and withdrawn on March 3rd but I believe today is actually a lesser known date.
But- if that sort of thing is going to bother you, I do have a 'death' tag for any time I make mention of a passing so you can avoid those posts if you want. It will usually just be a quick note, dates and a quick 'happy birthday' or 'I miss you' type message. Sometimes, it's a bit lengthy and more involved though... kind of like tonight.
May 27, 1914 - October 11, 2002
Why is it that high school feels closer to two years ago than the six that it really was?
I miss watching you check your blood before dinner, I miss the stupid little figures that came in the tea boxes. The bright Crayola clay that my grandmother didn't want me playing with and watching Joey make those gross bugs that stuck on the windows.
I miss the calligraphy sets and dancing around in your living room or kitchen while you were off in another room oblivious to my antics. Back then I was so reluctant to give up my tapes for CDs, and here I am a decade later refusing to give up my CDs for an ipod. I feel like you're the only person in this whole family I ever really had any alone time with and that's because you spent so much time alone and I always made a point of coming next door to see you instead of staying in my own house or calling you to come over when grandma said it was time for dinner.
For ten years I thought the worst thing I could experience was her death on my birthday, but you were buried on Dan's and then less than six months later grandpa died on his own.
The saddest part is that what I miss most isn't any of that. It's after they put you in the nursing home, when we would all get together for holidays at your son's house, everyone gathered around and you so out of it you can't remember who the hell your grandchildren even are anymore. But you always smiled at me, you always remembered me through all of that, not your own grandchildren and it made me feel important for once in my life. That I was the one who stuck out, that I was the one you remembered. That when they were shoving Andrea at you, it was my hand you refused to let go of... as much as the grip hurt sometimes.
I miss your coffee colored house. Everyone likes the new blue, and the extension on the front but I always had a bad habit of holding onto the past. I hate looking at the safe haven I once had, and knowing that it's now off limits. I cringe every time I go to my father's house because it's right there and no longer part of our family like it was for nearly fifty years.
Every time I look at my snake I think about the one you found in your garden and gave to me when I was a kid. The one that we thought was dead until it started moving, and I wonder what you'd think if you knew that I had a pet snake living in my house now. Somehow I think you'd just laugh about it, because both of you were far more understanding about my weird tastes than my own immediate family. I wonder sometimes how you two weren't really my grandparents... we had so much more in common.
I bought some Breyer's Mint chip ice cream last week, and haven't stopped thinking about you since. I've been meaning to get some coffee too, last year that was all I asked for for my birthday. It's kind of funny how I keep coming full circle without even thinking about it.
It's kind of funny how when you died I didn't cry for days, and when I did I sobbed so fully and uncontrollably for such a short amount of time. I don't cry for you every year like I do for grandpa, I don't get withdrawn and moody like I do for Aunt Mary. Every year this weekend passes with little more thought than that Dan's birthday is around now. And randomly, eight years later we found the prayer card given out at your funeral while cleaning. After I bought that ice cream and explained to my mother that when I was little I thought it was white because it was sugar free, and not just because that's how that company makes their ice cream.
I wasn't alone the year you died, I had someone to hold me while I cried - as sudden and short as it was three days later... but now eight years later, I'm alone and cried such a fit of tears I was starting to thinkt they weren't going to stop.
I'll never know if any of that meant half as much to you as it did to me, but thank you for making me feel valued when everyone else just made me feel like an outcast. Your family has always been one of the best parts of my life, and I know it's because you raised them.
I still haven't properly digested the information around Jon's death, to really post about it. Which might have something to do with me dwelling on and processing a loss I never really did this for despite it being eight years now.
I spent today with their baby, trying to ignore the theory going around that he did it because he got a call he couldn't handle. A call to say that someone else was pregnant with his kid, because that's really not a very good reason for such an extreme action. My grandmother sat and insisted that the baby looks just like her father and I just ignored her as best I could because I don't want to spend the rest of this girl's life seeing him in her face.
At the wake I did realize that I really missed out on seeing a lot of his good aspects. Of being part of something positive with him, while he was still here. But if I knew him and cared about him like everyone else did it would complicate things and right now I just want to be angry with him for doing this to his family. Leaving his daughter with no memories or reason for her loss. I suppose a note would have been too much to ask for...
I was three years old when my mother decided to kill herself. Only because she said goodbye to me first, did she change her mind and come home... and that is why I will never understand people who can love their family so much and still leave them with nothing just like that.
but- yeah. 6:30 am... Time for bed before I never shut up.
