Well this is lining up to be a shitty week.

My grandfather was diagnosed last year with terminal lymphoma. He is 89 years old, has diabetes, some cardiovascular problems—and his wife of 60 years, my grandmother, passed away 15 months ago. So we’ve been anticipating his passing for a while now. But honestly, he’s been doing pretty well lately. We were down visiting him over Memorial Day weekend, and he was lucid and mobile, still eating a solid breakfast in the morning, and his spirits were good. I understand that he’s been gradually declining over the last several weeks but from what his doctors said, we thought he had another three or four weeks.

But my dad just called to tell me that he’s had a big downturn in the last day and a half. He’s running a fever, not awake at all, and the hospice nurse believes he has 72 hours left.

That means, of course, that if he passes that quickly and the funeral is this week, Mr. D. won’t be able to come for it, having just started his new job. And that, frankly, really sucks. It’s going to be hard enough for me to deal with losing my grandfather—the man is a giant, physically and spiritually, and he has been such an important part of my life—but dealing with his death without my husband?  Oof.

And to top it off with a statement that’s going to sound hideously self-involved, I had kind of anticipated my grandfather’s funeral being an unscheduled visit for Mr. D. and I, coming (as we all expected) somewhere in the middle of the 7 weeks we’ll go without seeing one another. Unfortunately that won’t be the case.

So it’s been pretty much a shitty day and I don’t think the rest of the week is going to be any better.


The longest 10 weeks

Today is the first day of the longest 10 weeks of my life. Mr. D. leaves in about half an hour for parts east. I join him in 10 weeks.

  • In 4 weeks, the movers will come and pack up our apartment.
  • In 6 weeks, I’ll move out of our apartment and into that tiny sublet.
  • In 7 weeks, I’ll visit Mr. D. and our new house and help him make it home.
  • And in 10 weeks, Mr. D. will fly out here to help me make my own drive east.

It’s finally happening, after what feels like years of talking and thinking about it—we’re going to be living apart. I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster for the last 2 weeks, of course, but I think it’s finally out of my system. We had a lovely dinner last night at our favorite restaurant (where they brought us complimentary “bon voyage” champagne and cookies, just part of why I love that place so much), and a leisurely stroll back home in the night air. And it fortified us both. I think we’re both now as ready as we can be for a difficult few weeks—and excited to get to the other side of it and start a new chapter in our lives.

(Update: I was wrong. Not out of my system. Am a wreck.)