The Day: Two Hundred Eleven

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe phone rang at 7:00a.m. this morning – our parents called, needing tech support help to set up their printer so my father could print the boarding pass my half-sister set him up with.   It was clear that over the phone wasn’t going to work, so we gathered ourselves up in all of five minutes and then flew the seven minutes over there and got my father all the printed materials he could want for.  After a bunch of nervous speculation, apparently, he had to go to Fargo like, now.  Or like the soonest flight which was 2:30p.m. and for my father, who is not entirely sure that arriving at the airport three hours early is enough time to cover all eventualities, this whole thing is so disorienting.

Like so many things the situation with my grandmother has turned pear-shaped, I am sitting on a pile of clean clothes I intended to put away but instead, we got my father to the airport shuttle, went to lunch (at a place I won’t probably choose to go back to when there are 9000 other Mexican restaurants out there that like to put flavors in things), got some shoes for Italy (how the hell can I be worrying about the color of walking shoes right now), got the materials for the dress for DragonCon, and spoke with my friends

My grandmother passed away tonight.  It feels odd to know so soon, to be able to tell you, in a Twitter and Facebook-style world, that this has
I am so glad my dad was able to be there and see her.  I’m just…I don’t know.  It’s not sunk in.  It’s not sunk in at all.   There will be a lot of time as we drive up for the funeral.   All I know is something that was forever isn’t anymore.  Something that was safe and unchanged and sky is blue level of permanence is no more.

I really don’t want to write anymore today, to blather on about cheap incongruities between what I’ve known and what reality has made occur.  It’s only to keep my promise that I continue.   My little sister’s upset, I’m upset, I’m stressed about work, I’m not sure what is going to happen.  It’s not something you can just put in a box and mark, okay, done, check, on we go.  Nothing’s on we go about it.

So I ate like shit again.  And I feel like shit.  And I want, really, to focus and accept self-care as part of the formula going forward.  I at least want to start doing 1 thing marginally better than McDonalds.  I really would like to commit to never eating that shit again.  I want to cook something in my kitchen just as my grandmother did every morning, noon, and night.  Time for some more aspirin. Things are so topsy-turvy, I have a morning meeting at 7:30a.m. at Starbucks.  I have to reschedule writing group, unless, this isn’t happening until later, I want to know everything so I can plan.

But nobody has the plan.

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