I sure do wish that people I love would stop dying.
So Bam is this close to gone. Hot on the heels of Megan's grandfather's sudden (and unexpected) death over xmas, my own favourite grandpa (Bam) is now dying. It's been a long four years leading up to this. In and out of the hospital, feeling lousy, being stuck at home with his mother-in-law... it's been "only a matter of time" for much longer than any of us wanted to admit.

Our family is very much about denial, so that refusal to face the harsh reality falls right into line with how my mother was raised, and how she raised me. I know my grandmother will just pull all that pain and grief down into a tight little ball in the pit of her stomach, clap her hands together and say "Well, we just need to get that roast in the oven!" While neither my mom nor I nor my brother push the denial as far as my Nanny, it's still there. It's always my first reaction, and it probably always will be.

The thing is, that I don't really feel grief. Maybe it's because I'm still in denial about the whole thing, but I feel ok about it actually. The last thing Bam would want was any of us "pissing and moaning" over him. I feel so prepared for this that I don't really feel sad. I suppose it's partially the liberal humanism that runs so deep in me (largely instilled by Bam's general attitude toward life) that says "well, that's just the way things are." This is, of course, a modified version of the Olen Ray Hibbard adage "shit happens". Some choose to let negativity ruin their lives, my grandfather and I have chosen to let it empower us.

Anyway, I'm happy that last time I saw him over xmas, I hugged him and told him that I loved him. That's all anyone can ask for.
- posted by Mason @ 9:13 AM