JBuck's, Marsalis & Family

Went to lunch at JBuck's with the family today, and it was very good. I had a turkey club (mostly for the guacamole, haha) that fell apart the second I tried to eat it - too much meat - and this crazy bottled blackberry tea. They spirited away the bottles when we weren't looking (or at least it seemed that way), otherwise I would've kept mine. They were interesting. As for my family, we always have such a good time together. Making horrible jokes, flipping each other off... just being generally ridiculous. I'm going to miss them a lot, even if I am ready to head back to school. We're going to a Wynton Marsalis concert tonight. Thank god for good jazz and people who appreciate good music. It's going to be fabulous, I can feel it.

I still haven't started packing, which is how it usually goes and also a very bad idea. Turns out we aren't leaving until midday anyway because my dad wants to visit my grandpa at the hospital in the morning. I won't get to Columbia until around 4 or 5, maybe later. That's fine, though. Casey isn't coming back until Monday afternoon and Sayeed won't be there until around the time that I will (oh, le sigh). Poor Gabs is already there without much company, though I suppose Ben and Jim are as well. I have no idea about Johnny, and considering circumstances (or emotional attachments, perhaps) he'd be the one she would be most concerned about...

I guess talking about packing instead of doing it isn't a very effective way to get things accomplished. I'm off to be productive!

Closure

Today was the funeral. Sort of surreal, like I was outside of my body, watching someone else attempting to hold it together... I don't think it's really sunk in yet. It was so sudden.

Though this might sound terrible, I think the reason I've been very emotional about my grandmother's death has centered around its effect on my family members, my father and grandfather in particular. The only other time I've seen my dad cry was when we had to put down our cat, Coquette, a few years ago. There's just something about seeing others in pain that makes me distressed. Don't get me wrong, I miss my grandma. I'm sad that she's no longer with us, but watching my grandpa struggle with his wife's death when he can barely breathe and his kidneys are failing... is pretty hard.

I have to say, I was surprised and touched when my nine-year-old cousin Mallory started crying. I think she's just old enough to understand the impact, while her younger siblings are too young to grasp the concept of death. Zachary, who just turned four, kept asking, "Is grandma in the box? Is grandma in there?" Children are so honest, so candid. I think sometimes they help everyone take themselves a little less seriously. I know watching him during the service helped me stay somewhat collected.

During the visitation, I spent some time looking at the pictures of my grandma when she was younger. She was very pretty in all of them - her high school picture, her playing field hockey, and her wedding photo with my grandpa, who I must say, was incredibly dashing himself. I've decided I must have inherited my "puffy cheeks" from both sides of the family, because she had them and so does my mom. I guess I'm okay with that, heh.

And I guess now is the point where I start to move on. I think I'm almost ready.

Feeling a little powerless...

My grandma passed away last night.

It was completely unexpected and highly upsetting, as my grandpa (her husband, my dad's dad) has been in the hospital since just before Thanksgiving. I suppose she had been under a lot of strain. Maybe it just took a toll on her...

After being unable to reach her all day yesterday, my dad and my aunt called the police to check out the house. She hadn't been in to visit my grandpa in a while. The last time my dad had talked to her was Sunday, and she seemed alright, though she said she had a cold. They found her in the kitchen. All I could think about was... she was all alone. And the last time I got to see her was over Thanksgiving, since I couldn't come home in time for the family Christmas celebration because of the snow storm. And who's going to take care of my grandpa? And what's going to happen when I have to go through this with my own parents...?

Needless to say, my dad has a lot on his plate. He didn't get home until around 1:45 this morning. We haven't talked much... I guess no one is sure what to say. For now, hugs will have to suffice. The funeral will be on Friday or Saturday... and then I head back to school.

I hope she's at peace in some other realm, and that our pain doesn't give her too much pain. I love you, gramma.

Some Healthy Optimism

Yesterday I was looking back through my journal entries from senior year of high school and thinking to myself, I was really crazy and emotional during that period of my life (as are all teenagers excepting the mutant ones who manage to get through the ordeal of growing up essentially unscathed), but keeping a journal gave me an outlet. I should really start writing in one again, daily, if possible.

So here, taking shape, is my late New Years' resolution. I vow to become a more emotionally healthy person. I would like to take up fiction and poetry writing again, as I don't do it often enough anymore. I will read for fun rather than obligation before I go to bed, I will exercise every morning in order to reduce stress, I will give myself some me time away from friends, and I will knit an entire scarf, dammit.

As school looms on the horizon, I have a lot to do, but that's only because I've left it until the very last moment, as always. Appointments to go to, presents to buy, make, and wrap, books to obtain and to finish, clothes to wash and pack, money to spend... when is it ever done?

I am, however, looking forward to a very successful and enjoyable semester. French, anthropology, theater, history, and political science. Sounds pretty damn fun to me. I'm hoping to get a desk attendant job at McDavid as well so I'll have a little extra cash to eat out on the weekends or buy things I don't need, such as the next Phoenix Wright game that comes out in February (yes, loser) or a pair of knee-high, fashionable boots.

So you see, I'm trying to be more optimistic and a little more focused. Wish me luck.

Poetry - Atrophy

my heart—
imprecisely sliced,
divvied into uneven thirds

but one injured morsel
each to myself,
to the East,
and to the West

i clutch mine to my chest
as if squeezing
will revive it

but alone it can't expand,
it can't contract,
and arteries atrophy

i feel sluggish,
stretched and strained;
drained and weary

idling in a bitter pool
of feigned indifference
and hidden heartache

until the East
reaches the West,
and pulls me out