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"And I never really sleep anymore."
Oct. 4th, 2006 09:56 amYes, I've been sleeping, but not much.
I had to come to work late today; I was dreaming about the funeral and woke up crying, so I waited to come in until I had a better grip on myself. I was speaking, in the dream, and it was hard.
Not meaning to make it worse, but in no way helping me, Ravi called this morning. He sounds so...tired. He and my grandfather were the best of friends, and he's having as hard a time with all of this as anyone else. He's giving the eulogy, and that was half of why he was calling; he asked me to write down anything I remembered or particularly wanted people to know about Pop. The other half was that he wanted me to make a list of any sentimental items in the house that I particularly want, so Mom can keep them in mind as we start to clean house. He suggested I might like the railroad clock, which Pop had specially ordered for their anniversary when I was a kid. I like that idea; the only other thing I could think of offhand was the antique lithograph of the Holy Family, which has always hung at the bottom of the steps.
Other than that, I can't think of a damn thing.
I don't know.
Do I know anything anymore? I keep stopping myself from picking up the phone to call him. "Pop, I can't do this, please tell me what to do." Like Mom said in the hospital Monday morning, who do you call when the person you've always called is gone?
It's odd, the mornings are hardest. Last night I was up late, RPing and talking to twin and the kids, and I was okay. They made me laugh. Now I'm here at work again, and the sun is shining and it's a beautiful day, and I feel like I can't function. Like I'm trying to move underwater, think through sand, see through cloudy glass. I am literally taking this minute by minute.
I had to come to work late today; I was dreaming about the funeral and woke up crying, so I waited to come in until I had a better grip on myself. I was speaking, in the dream, and it was hard.
Not meaning to make it worse, but in no way helping me, Ravi called this morning. He sounds so...tired. He and my grandfather were the best of friends, and he's having as hard a time with all of this as anyone else. He's giving the eulogy, and that was half of why he was calling; he asked me to write down anything I remembered or particularly wanted people to know about Pop. The other half was that he wanted me to make a list of any sentimental items in the house that I particularly want, so Mom can keep them in mind as we start to clean house. He suggested I might like the railroad clock, which Pop had specially ordered for their anniversary when I was a kid. I like that idea; the only other thing I could think of offhand was the antique lithograph of the Holy Family, which has always hung at the bottom of the steps.
Other than that, I can't think of a damn thing.
I don't know.
Do I know anything anymore? I keep stopping myself from picking up the phone to call him. "Pop, I can't do this, please tell me what to do." Like Mom said in the hospital Monday morning, who do you call when the person you've always called is gone?
It's odd, the mornings are hardest. Last night I was up late, RPing and talking to twin and the kids, and I was okay. They made me laugh. Now I'm here at work again, and the sun is shining and it's a beautiful day, and I feel like I can't function. Like I'm trying to move underwater, think through sand, see through cloudy glass. I am literally taking this minute by minute.
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madzilla
