Life has been full of unpleasant surprises for this bunny, as of late. My grandmother, and heroine, passed away little less than 3 months ago. She suffered from a massive stroke, and was in intensive care for about a week. I'm not anywhere close to being over it, and wonder if I ever will be. I'd like Elisabeth Kubler Ross to study me, because I have certainly deviated from her neatly packaged stages of grief. On Death and Dying is simply not relatable, if you ask me.
My job security was threatened in the week that lead up to her death. My bosses' boss wondered why it was that I needed to be at the hospital every day, and felt that I should just return to work and wait for a phone call. Things have since let up on that front, but I still have to interact on a semi-regular basis with a woman whom I feel can only be filled with selfishness and evil. I do not want to work for someone who can only offer me grief during a time when I am already filled with it. She called me one day to tell me that she and her daughter were praying for me, but to be perfectly honest, I think I'd feel better knowing that Max Cady from Cape Fear was doing the praying.
Shortly after my grandmother passed, my grandfather had what was likely a small heart attack, and had a pacemaker put in. He's been in two nursing homes since the surgery, and is making no progress. He's depressed, confused, and suffering from the saddest form of dememtia I have ever seen. He asks me where his wife is fairly regularly now, and it kills me to have to hide the truth from him, but I know that hearing the truth every 20 minutes can only make him feel worse than he already does.
Due to unforseen financial matters, we moved my mom and sister into the house where they found my grandma after her stroke. It was a helluva move, and it's strange to be there in that part of the house without falling apart. I know I should be helping them unpack and decide what stuff gets donated to charity, what stuff goes to a garage sale, and what stuff gets kept, I just can't hide how her death is tearing me apart anymore. I was the strong one for everyone during the time that she lay there dying, and now I have nothing left. Not faith, not hope, not energy, not helpfulness. They all keep telling me that I need to be strong for them, or else they will fall apart, but I've got nothing to offer that will do anyone any good. Two different kinds of anti-depressants, and I cannot do this. Not without needing more sleep than my life allows.
To top all of this off, our family dog that I grew up with, passed on a few weeks ago. I simply do not see "God's Plan" in any of this. Why would He allow all of this to happen, and then take away one of the small and simple comforts we all had to get us through?
Dear Readers, it will be a long while before I find my way back to this forum, so I hope you all understand. As it is, I'll be spending what's left of Sunday in my bed, wishing Monday would stay away. Right now, my own dog is the only thing that keeps me going. I don't know what I would be doing right now if I didn't have him.
