We said goodbye to my grandfather on Saturday. The services were lovely — my grandfather was well-loved by not only his family but also by his community, and both turned out to celebrate his life.

Mr. D. was also able to make it and I was so glad to see him. It made the whole separation easier, too — seeing him so soon made the time apart so far just seem like a business trip, a short interval — and it’s making the time ahead feel the same. Skype helps with that.

So all things considered, I’m handling both of the upheavals of the last 10 days pretty well. Except I’m kind of not.

First, I’m exhausted from the weekend — I slept in four different beds in the four different nights I was away. I drove the Texas triangle — San Antonio to Corpus to Houston and back to San Antonio — over a 60 hour period. I, of course, attended a rosary and a funeral and a graveside service and a wake (more or less) and a reception; I also went to a wedding shower and several family dinners.

Drop all that on top of plugging away at the work assignment that never ends (I just keep chipping away at it and it never goes away), living in an apartment that is apparently hot sh!t (landlord’s been showing it nonstop since last week — thankfully I was out of town for most of it), ferrying the dog back and forth to and from the kennel, and worrying about general (though mostly temporary) financial constraints and you have a recipe for total weariness.

I have three weeks, more or less, until the movers come to pack me up and take my stuff (and my dog, who is keeping me sane right now) and I’m hoping to spend those weeks regaining my sanity — keeping organized and tidy and rested and healthy. The weeks after that are going to be rough, but if I can get into a good, balanced place first, hopefully it won’t throw me into a complete downward spiral.

I leave you with one tired dog. He looks like I feel.


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.