Being a person is complicated.
My great-aunt died early yesterday morning and her death is something I’m grappling with in different ways at different times. I am full of regret that I didn’t get Elle out to meet her. She lived 2 hours away and I couldn’t be bothered to take my baby girl out to meet my Aunt Fern.
I am sad that she’s dead.
I am content with the manner of her death — as if my emotions in this matter at all — that she died in her sleep and as my dad put it: “She’s probably didn’t even know.”
Aunt Fern drove a school bus for a number of years and had one story she’d tell time and again whenever we got to together. Like many of my lady relatives of her generation, she’s on the shorter side and yet whenever she had to do her annual driver preparedness test, she spoke her pride about how she’d take her brake thumper and walk along the bus and point out all of the parts she knew. She knew her bus and even though I never rode with her, I don’t doubt that she was a damn fine bus driver.
I am also kind of done with mourning. But you can’t be. You can’t put your foot down and say this is the last time I will mourn because it will happen again. You open your heart and love and miss people when they’re gone until the day you die. It’s just the way it is.
Let’s add this one to the list of how I feel:
I feel like an emotional cripple that I can type this and only feel a dull ache.
Just felt like I needed to say these things out loud. Posts of actual content will likely resume next week. Dad will fly in for the funeral so that means we’re going to actually get stuff done on the Jade House.
Editor’s Note: Spell check helpfully pointed out that my writing is full of the passive voice today. Mlle. Holt would be so disappointed. My writing is getting sloppy and that’s why I need to pollute the Internet again with my ramblings.