The Yellow Rose Withers

This has been a shit week. This is also going to be one of those stream of subconscious posts wherein I will contradict myself endlessly. Given the circumstances, I’m willing for forgive myself that humanity.

For the sake of my knowing what all this is about in 10 years (not the title shouldn’t make it obvious) I will say this much. Grandma M.

So much of my brain ends up with the same sentiment – what is the point? If this is the inevitable endpoint, are we all just so selfish and focused on our own moments we don’t care what happens at the end of everyone? The lack of compassion, the complete ‘who gives a fuck’ of all this angers me to no end. Everybody dies, not everyone apparently gets to do so with dignity or self intact.

My heart aches knowing full well that this is exactly the end she did not want. She was so at peace¬†with going whenever the good lord would have her (her words). She was ready to be with her husband again, and simply wanted her body to expire, leaving us without becoming as she and so many others put it ‘a burden’. A human you love is never a burden. Not to me. Not as I dress you, and fight with you as you swear you are not in your own home in your own bed. You are not a burden, you are still my grandmother, even if your brain is playing keep away with that fact.

There’s so much about this process that is not known to anyone until the time comes where you have to know? Why do we refuse to talk about this, share knowledge about this. Feels very much that this is yet another instance in life where we like to put our fingers in our ears and claim ignorance of the reality we all face. The reality of what we all may experience multiple times as we ourselves age closer and closer to being the one on their way loose the mortal coil.

I simply want you to be able to pass without being in a place foreign to you and selfishly I cannot help but now want to ensure somehow that I myself do not meet a similar fate.

So many thoughts swirl as I now try to recall all the things I said when on the phone with M the other day. So many of the bingos I am given for not wanting children are swirling because in the end, you’re all alone. The anger and pain in my family because this that or the other person didn’t seem to care or arrive fast enough is ridiculous. The whole thing just makes me want to bitch slap everyone. All of this is not about you fuckers, it’s about her.

Who will take care of you?

The end is he end is the end, when you go perhaps is better left to your control to some extent. Maybe Aaron being gone so soon is for the better. The alternative of slowly expiring seems the crappier side of the coin.

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