Flake
April 13th, 2007, 03:07 AM
First off, I don't mean to sound like I'm whining. I've been through crap before in my life, so it isn't really anything new, but I've also found that writing the situation down helps, and hey, if there're folks to read it, the more the merrier, right?
For the last month and a half I've been making the 250 mile trip (one way) up to Seattle almost every week, looking for a place to stay, and a place to work so I can afford to stay up there. So far nothing solid, but I do have a way to make a few nickels, and some other stuff is on the horizon. But it's the crap that's going on around this whole "no-house, no-real-job" situation that's really getting to me.
For starters, there's a girl. Not just any girl. This girl and I have had on and off crushes on each other since second grade (no joke). In high school there were a lot of overtones, but me, being the idiot that I was, never grew the balls to do anything about them. Even after high school there were opportunities that I missed. We've always joked since, though, about being each others' "plan B." She's told me on numerous occasions that she'd marry me in a heart beat, all the while knowing that I wouldn't do anything about it. I told her, half seriously, that one day I'd show up with a ring and two tickets to Vegas, to which she replied, "that'll be the day." This whole situation could fill up its own post, but since this thread isn't about just this situation, I'll err on the side of brevity, and will probably elaborate with another thread on the situation.
Anyhoo, she's living up in the Seattle area, and we hung out while I was up there 3 weeks ago. Again, this requires a lot of back story to get into details, but I proved to her that I actually grew a pair and was willing to make a move (working for a circus does wonders for bringing one out of one's shell). I think doing so either freaked her out, or just put her in a place of mind where she wants to look at the situation from a distance. In other words, we haven't really talked. . .or communicated at all, since then. She hasn't answered my calls, text messages are abrupt, and I just get the feeling that right now she doesn't want anything to do with me. Right now at least. Okay okay, maybe I laid it on a little thick, maybe I went too far. But this is just one piece to the puzzle.
Meanwhile, I've put over 1500 miles on my car in the last month and a half, and it started leaking oil like a sieve. Put some oil in, some other problems with it, long story short, I'm staring at a $600 invoice and an empty wallet. Fortunately taking the car to the shop was my dad's idea, so he put up the money for it, but it's just another thing to add to the pile.
And then, last week, I got a terrible cold. At least I thought it was a cold. Turned out to be a sinus infection and I ended up spending the entire week at my parents' house recovering. I was planning on heading back up to Seattle on Sunday, as I was starting to clear up a bit, and my grandma was going to come over for dinner on Saturday night. So the table's set, and my grandma's late. Very unusual. So my folks started calling her place with no answer. They start getting ready to go over to check up on her. In my head I'm saying "good lord, calm down."
Without perspective, of course, what I thought doesn't make much sense. Every grandson should care about the well-being of his grandmother. And I do. But my grandmother is a resilient individual. At 70 years old, she dislocated her shoulder cross-country skiing. Your first thought shouldn't be "oh my, a 70-year old woman dislocated her shoulder," it should be, "Oh my God, who cross-country skis at 70?" She's an avid hiker, and in incredible health at 83. Hence my first reaction.
So about 20 minutes later, my parents call me. She's still not answering her phone, and all her doors are locked and windows shut tight. This was probably the first sign in my mind that should've gone off. My grandma never locks her doors unless she's going out of town for at least a day or going to sleep. Her next door neighbor is a sheriff and she lives in one of the quietest neighborhoods on the quiet side of the town. So I'm scratching my head internally, but figuring there's an easily rational explanation that'll pan out in the next couple hours.
About an hour later my mom calls again, this time letting me know that my aunt (who has a house key and lives a couple hours north) is on her way down to unlock the house. This should've set off another big light in my head. Grandma Betty (the grandmother in question, my dad's mom) never goes out of town without letting aunt Carol know (the aunt mentioned). So my head is mulling over 1000 little bits of information, all the while I'm trying to distract myself by playing WoW.
Roughly 30 minutes later I got up to pour myself a drink, but before I could get to the fridge, I heard my phone ringing. My heart started to sink. It was either really good news, or really crappy news. To my dismay, it was the latter. Out of seemingly nowhere, my grandmother passed away sometime last Thursday night.
Now I'll be honest, I don't think I know how to deal with death. The only other funeral I've ever remembered attending was my great uncle Willard, who was estranged from our family for all but the last 3 or 4 years of his life, and I'd only met him on a couple occasions, so I didn't really know him well. In fact, the biggest reason my grandmother's death is affecting me is because I keep on thinking to that it should be affecting me in a more obvious manner.
I mean, yeah, I held back a few tears. But for Christ's sake, I cried more when my dog of nearly 16 years died. How the hell does that measure up with one of the most amazing women in the world who I've known for 24 years? And with whom I've had countless incredible discussions? I almost want to feel like utter crap just so I'll think I'm normal.
That being said, I'll miss her. She was always so joyful despite the situation, whatever the situation, and always full of life. I could go on about how wonderful she was, but I think you get the point.
All this to say that while I'm sad (in a selfish way), I think my seemingly cold reaction is, in and of itself, a reflection of how she dealt with death. She always hated funerals, never went to them. Rather, she cherished the time she had with people, and looked on the death of others with hope. While after first hearing the news, I wanted to say, "the world is a bit of a darker place now," I figured I'd put things in perspective.
The sun shines a bit brighter, simply because she was here, and heaven got a bit more beautiful tonight.
For the last month and a half I've been making the 250 mile trip (one way) up to Seattle almost every week, looking for a place to stay, and a place to work so I can afford to stay up there. So far nothing solid, but I do have a way to make a few nickels, and some other stuff is on the horizon. But it's the crap that's going on around this whole "no-house, no-real-job" situation that's really getting to me.
For starters, there's a girl. Not just any girl. This girl and I have had on and off crushes on each other since second grade (no joke). In high school there were a lot of overtones, but me, being the idiot that I was, never grew the balls to do anything about them. Even after high school there were opportunities that I missed. We've always joked since, though, about being each others' "plan B." She's told me on numerous occasions that she'd marry me in a heart beat, all the while knowing that I wouldn't do anything about it. I told her, half seriously, that one day I'd show up with a ring and two tickets to Vegas, to which she replied, "that'll be the day." This whole situation could fill up its own post, but since this thread isn't about just this situation, I'll err on the side of brevity, and will probably elaborate with another thread on the situation.
Anyhoo, she's living up in the Seattle area, and we hung out while I was up there 3 weeks ago. Again, this requires a lot of back story to get into details, but I proved to her that I actually grew a pair and was willing to make a move (working for a circus does wonders for bringing one out of one's shell). I think doing so either freaked her out, or just put her in a place of mind where she wants to look at the situation from a distance. In other words, we haven't really talked. . .or communicated at all, since then. She hasn't answered my calls, text messages are abrupt, and I just get the feeling that right now she doesn't want anything to do with me. Right now at least. Okay okay, maybe I laid it on a little thick, maybe I went too far. But this is just one piece to the puzzle.
Meanwhile, I've put over 1500 miles on my car in the last month and a half, and it started leaking oil like a sieve. Put some oil in, some other problems with it, long story short, I'm staring at a $600 invoice and an empty wallet. Fortunately taking the car to the shop was my dad's idea, so he put up the money for it, but it's just another thing to add to the pile.
And then, last week, I got a terrible cold. At least I thought it was a cold. Turned out to be a sinus infection and I ended up spending the entire week at my parents' house recovering. I was planning on heading back up to Seattle on Sunday, as I was starting to clear up a bit, and my grandma was going to come over for dinner on Saturday night. So the table's set, and my grandma's late. Very unusual. So my folks started calling her place with no answer. They start getting ready to go over to check up on her. In my head I'm saying "good lord, calm down."
Without perspective, of course, what I thought doesn't make much sense. Every grandson should care about the well-being of his grandmother. And I do. But my grandmother is a resilient individual. At 70 years old, she dislocated her shoulder cross-country skiing. Your first thought shouldn't be "oh my, a 70-year old woman dislocated her shoulder," it should be, "Oh my God, who cross-country skis at 70?" She's an avid hiker, and in incredible health at 83. Hence my first reaction.
So about 20 minutes later, my parents call me. She's still not answering her phone, and all her doors are locked and windows shut tight. This was probably the first sign in my mind that should've gone off. My grandma never locks her doors unless she's going out of town for at least a day or going to sleep. Her next door neighbor is a sheriff and she lives in one of the quietest neighborhoods on the quiet side of the town. So I'm scratching my head internally, but figuring there's an easily rational explanation that'll pan out in the next couple hours.
About an hour later my mom calls again, this time letting me know that my aunt (who has a house key and lives a couple hours north) is on her way down to unlock the house. This should've set off another big light in my head. Grandma Betty (the grandmother in question, my dad's mom) never goes out of town without letting aunt Carol know (the aunt mentioned). So my head is mulling over 1000 little bits of information, all the while I'm trying to distract myself by playing WoW.
Roughly 30 minutes later I got up to pour myself a drink, but before I could get to the fridge, I heard my phone ringing. My heart started to sink. It was either really good news, or really crappy news. To my dismay, it was the latter. Out of seemingly nowhere, my grandmother passed away sometime last Thursday night.
Now I'll be honest, I don't think I know how to deal with death. The only other funeral I've ever remembered attending was my great uncle Willard, who was estranged from our family for all but the last 3 or 4 years of his life, and I'd only met him on a couple occasions, so I didn't really know him well. In fact, the biggest reason my grandmother's death is affecting me is because I keep on thinking to that it should be affecting me in a more obvious manner.
I mean, yeah, I held back a few tears. But for Christ's sake, I cried more when my dog of nearly 16 years died. How the hell does that measure up with one of the most amazing women in the world who I've known for 24 years? And with whom I've had countless incredible discussions? I almost want to feel like utter crap just so I'll think I'm normal.
That being said, I'll miss her. She was always so joyful despite the situation, whatever the situation, and always full of life. I could go on about how wonderful she was, but I think you get the point.
All this to say that while I'm sad (in a selfish way), I think my seemingly cold reaction is, in and of itself, a reflection of how she dealt with death. She always hated funerals, never went to them. Rather, she cherished the time she had with people, and looked on the death of others with hope. While after first hearing the news, I wanted to say, "the world is a bit of a darker place now," I figured I'd put things in perspective.
The sun shines a bit brighter, simply because she was here, and heaven got a bit more beautiful tonight.