Death. I get it. Population control. We can't live forever but does it have to be so sudden? So final?
I don't know where my irrational fear of death came. Maybe it was the way it was explained to me as a child. Maybe it's my understanding in the fact that it's final. Death equals no more. No more waking up, no more sunshine, no more traveling or adventures, no more breakfast with the kids, no more laughs or smiles, no more hugs or kisses, no more "bonding"... no more Anything. You just wake up one day and there's a void.
I'm sick to my stomach thinking of my kids living without me one day. I'm sick to my stomach thinking of life without them. I feel like I was selfish to bring them in to this world because of it's inevitable ending, not to mention all the terrible things that could happen along the way.
I say that I learned a lot of things from my grandma, and that I'm learning a lot of things from her death. She was like a mother to me for so long. She loved me unconditionally, the no matter what kind. She supported me even if she didn't agree. She sat back and watched my life unfold instead of telling me how disappointed she was. Yes, she shook her head at me and spoke her mind, but she never held anything against me or thought less of me for who I was.
I grew up loving my grandparents more than anything in the world. As I got older I learned that what I always thought about them was a lie. I question whether or not my grandma was truly happy, if she lived the life she wanted. I now know, or always knew that she didn't. I learned from her that I don't want to die unhappy, living my life with regrets. I don't want to be doing something I don't want to, something that makes me unhappy that's going to sap the life out of me. Was she with her one true love? Did she get all she wanted out of life? I doubt it. I know most of us don't. Her life was out of her control I feel. I know she held her tongue on most things. I guess I learned to be so vocal in watching her be so silent.
My heart is breaking, my world is shattering. I feel like my grandma was a filter on life. My grandpa admittedly said, "Your grandma's dead. I don't have to be nice anymore." And it doesn't sound like he has been. He's been nice to me, reassured me a few times he loves me, just threatened to kill some members in my family is all. Fail! My step mom is now openly telling me to f off because I'm "not a Deel" and shit hit the fan. Wonderful. This is All I need on Top of my grandma dying. I feel like she'd be turning over in her grave, but I also feel like she knew. I know she was out of control of a lot of things, and my grandpa didn't always respect her wishes so what should change now?
I love him. I feel like I'm mad at him. Maybe just denial of her death? He said it's so nice not to have piles in his room. I get that, but for fuck sake she died less than three weeks ago and like it or not, those were Her piles, those were Her things. Maybe not the best part of her... but to just wipe her out completely? To hear my dad say the day she died how much shit was worth? Really. ALL IT IS IS STUFF! Replaceable stuff that means nothing. She's dead. Nothing I get or take is going to bring her back or fill the void. Nothing.
I just feel like I should have properly said good bye knowing it was coming. I should have said thank you, told her I loved her, told I couldn't live without her... maybe I did. I don't know. I just know I feel like I lost. I know she loved me but I almost feel mad at her for not saying something, Knowing it was coming. It's stupid, I know, immature.
I'm so pissed! I can't call her when I have a question. I don't know who to turn to, who to talk to, who to ask, who to share with. I feel so alone. I feel lost. I'm depressed with out her. The longer it's been the more questions I have. The more I want to share with her. I'm pissed she didn't take care of herself, that she didn't quit smoking to be here. I'm mad that she's not here now. That I can't call her, to tell her what Logan did or that Olivia's smiling. I can't send her anymore pictures. I can't... anything. And now all our unfinished projects, all our dreams are in garbage bags to be tagged to the first person to get their hands on it.. except what they sneak out or take. Makes me sick to my stomach, thinking of my step mom with her hands on my grandma's stuff. My grandma hated her. She didn't care about my grandma either. My grandpa's got the wool over his eyes, they drink together, she flirts with him, she knows how to play him. Her jewelry, hell, everything is just a dollar sign to them. Makes me sick.
I wish I had money to sign up for a kickboxing class. I've always wanted to take one and I truly think it'd help in so many ways. Someday it will be another regret of the things I didn't do. As if I didn't have enough of those already.
I don't want to waste my life wishing I would've done more. I think that's worse than death. I'm so sick in my stomach with all this I can't take it.