zephyrofgod: (mandolin me)
[personal profile] zephyrofgod
I really should be in bed, but instead, I'm here.

Grandpa's funeral was the balm to my Uncle Tom's fiasco (which, that it was, even if I didn't post it. It was downright inappropriate, the things his pastor said, and that I may go over in a later post). It wasn't a traditionally Catholic service (my Uncle Ham's father is a Baptist minister, and he did the service, and he did the service as a friend of my grandfather, and with that, came things like, "Well, this is what he would want me to say," and he'd hit the nail right on the head), and Uncle Ham and his brother Gary played "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," on harmonica and guitar. A simple service, yes, but a good, solid, balm to those who mourn.

It's the first time in years I've seen my mother be welcomed back to that side. My cousin Matt kept calling her Aunt Betty (she hasn't been his aunt for over ten years), my Uncle Ham referred to her as his sister-in-law countless times, and my father and my mother actually hugged. I'm still shocked. My Uncle Paul was cordial to my mother, and even introduced his partner, Will to her.

Full reconciliation may never occur, but I rejoice when I see this. There are things I understand now, and there are things that I may never understand.

Grandpa was cremated, but instead of being interred into a columbarium, he was buried in his plot at Mount Olivet. It was a military funeral, as he was a part of the Navy during WWII, as an Electrician's Mate. My cousin Matt and I are the worse off, I think, as we're the two oldest at 32 and 24 respectively. Grandma was strangely composed, although, this is the second funeral fro Grandpa and the third Ost funeral since November 2005. She doesn't look good: she's losing weight, she didn't eat much at the reception afterwards, and she isn't the Grandma I know, personality-wise.

I'm not going into work for the next two days, though I'm still torn: do I go back and try to get back to normal as soon as I can, or do I try and finish mourning? Considering I've been an absolute wreck, I'm hedging my bets towards the safer side and will take my remaining two bereavement days. I'm not sure I have to call in further, but I probably will. I'm tired of crying, and it even hurts to cry, but that's all I feel like doing. I know I'm depressed, and I know that this is an even harder time of year to feel this way, but I do. It's not fun, and I wish I didn't feel this way, sometimes.

However, if I didn't, I'd be a robot, totally incapable of any kind of emotion, and that's not the way that God made me. But this depression thing sucks. I hate it, and I hate feeling that absolutely gut-wrenchingly powerless feeling that goes along with it.

At the very least, I'll get a head-start on my Christmas cards, and I'll be able to get things out in the mail that I haven't been able to do so yet.

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March 2014


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