Loss, part 2

It’s very morbid to make plans to attend a funeral for someone who is still living. But because airlines are less and less willing to make bereavement fares available (or affordable), this is the way it must be.  It looks like Mr. D. will be able to make it, at least, for which I am exceedingly thankful, and that cuts our time apart to a mere six weeks.  (Well, five and a half, if I am generous with what constitutes a half week.) And he’ll be next to me as I say goodbye to my last grandparent — and possibly visit my hometown for the last time.

It’s odd to say that, but once my grandfather is gone, there won’t be any real reason for me to go back to my hometown. Neither of my parents live there, nor do any of my high school friends (at least not the ones I keep in touch with). I’ll have a few aunts, uncles, and cousins still there, but I’m more likely to see them at family reunions in another part of the state, or while visiting my dad.

So this funeral is going to represent not only the end of my grandfather’s long, full life but also the end of my childhood, and in a very tangible way.  Coming as it does at a time of huge transition for me, I’ll admit that I am not dealing with it all very well.

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