We're interviewing people for the Senior RA position today and tomorrow. I'm listening to the latest (and lamest) CD from King's X, and realizing that I'm strung out like cheap laundry in a trailer park right now
The news about my grandfather has waffled from "slight recovery and things don't look as bleak" to the latest...which was my father calling to tell me that it might not hurt for me to go ahead an make sure I've got a bag packed, including a suit, because things don't look too good.
This latest news comes on the heels of an emotionally traumatic week, full of ups, downs, sideways shifts, and full-on emotional inversions. It wasn't until this morning that I realized the reason I haven't slept for, oh, close to a week [and that what little sleep I have had has come through the magic of sleeping aides], and that I am so tense and on edge that I might as well start that heroin habit I seem to act like I'm on.
I finally almost came close to cracking when my mother called me last week [Wednesday, as a matter of fact] to start the "up/down" teeter-totter. She told me that Jay wanted to make sure that I knew he loved me, that I always was -- as he put it -- "the apple of his eye" [being the eldest grandchild has a few perks, I guess], and that he remembered all the good times we shared [including a highly embarrassing viewing of Snoopy, Come Home when I was a Little Sonny...a story that I shan't share here, as it is quite goofy].
This just hit me like a ton of bricks, and I really would have preferred it if someone had just told me that I was actually going to be fired. This was the first time that...well, the fact Jay is dying really felt real. I guess in my mind I've mostly felt like he was just sick...again...and that, yeah, he might not recover, but that doesn't mean he's going to DIE or anything. He'd just...y'know...be OUT for a while. He might even be GONE...but not GONE gone.
But...now I know. For as strong and as "He's ready I'm ready blah blah blah" as I've been, I know now that I'm going to feel my heart break when he's gone. There's going to be a Jay-shaped void in my life. This man, who has always been a constant source of joy, happiness, and whose very existence embodied to me the good memories of my childhood...I'll be left with only my memories, and there won't be that tangible presence in my life any more. Plus, the old goat'll expect me to assist in the upkeep of the cemetery plot. Bastard.
Additionally, once he's gone...I'll have no grandparents left alive. These non-existent children of mine will never get the chance to meet their great-grandfathers or great-grandmothers. The winter holidays will seem that much more cold with one less stack of gifts to hand out under the tree. The circle of my life will grow just a little tighter.
Mortality blows. Me and this "God" person are gonna have to have us a long damn chat one day. I wonder if it would be considered a mortal sin to call said Creator of All Things a sucker-punching prat for giving us all such miniscule lifespans. I mean, really -- think about it. I'm thirty-*cough* years old, and I'm just now starting to get a freakin' handle on a lot of things. If I were born with maturity and intelligence, maybe I might not be as bitter as I am right now. But...
Feh. Someone bring me a damn Mac Cloud of the Clan Mac Cloud. I want a Quickening. Or Nestle Quik. Something.