This morning
Nov. 10th, 2008 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trickykittyIt's the thinking that starts the tears. I was crying the entire time I wrote this, but I needed to think it, and I needed to cry.
This morning I awoke from a dream that my grandparents were driving in their car. I didn't wake up crying; I woke up just generally sad. I saw my grandmother in the car in my dream and I awoke missing seeing her face and how she looked a few years back. She used to go to the salon to have her hair done on a regular basis. It was all stringy and flat when I saw her in the hospital last week, but in the dream it was done up the way she always had it.
I was about to pour some cereal when I needed to use the restroom, but Tom was taking his shower. I ended up using K&E's bathroom, and it was the first time I had stepped into their bedroom since Misha was put to sleep a couple weeks ago. I tried to hold my emotions in check, but the moment I stepped out of their room I walked straight over to Kevin and began crying my heart out.
I miss Misha. I miss my grandmother. My grandfather is still alive, but I feel like a horrible person for not going to see him more often, and for not seeing him even once over the past two years until it was time to bring him the news of Grandma. I see my mom's mom periodically enough that, while I know I could increase the occurrences, I don't necessarily feel bad for not making more of an effort. With my dad's parents though, I feel like an absolute total heel for not visiting more often. We hadn't even celebrated Thanksgiving or Christmas with them the past couple of years, mostly because ... hell, I don't want to think of the reasons. The reasons are numerous and hollow in the face of death. I loved them dearly, and they knew I loved them, but it still doesn't take away the pain and guilt I feel for not visiting.
The part that hurt the most was him asking me who I was during that conversation. I'm not sure if it was just confusion from me moving from one side of the room to the other, since I felt sure that he recognized me right before Dad gave him the bad news, or if I really did look that much like a stranger. After a few minutes he felt horrible himself for even asking and was trying to beg my forgiveness while crying over the loss of his wife. It was fucking horrible.
I hate this level of sadness and loss. I can feel my stomach churning and my lungs wanting to collapse from not being able to breath. I don't share my feelings and emotions on this level simply because it's so damned hard to control them. My active imagination and high empathy will cause me to cry at the drop of a hat. Any "sad" movie will require me to be sitting next to a box of Kleenex.
True loss, and especially two back to back like this, really hurts. I know the pain will fade, but in the mean time I'm still working through it.
This morning I awoke from a dream that my grandparents were driving in their car. I didn't wake up crying; I woke up just generally sad. I saw my grandmother in the car in my dream and I awoke missing seeing her face and how she looked a few years back. She used to go to the salon to have her hair done on a regular basis. It was all stringy and flat when I saw her in the hospital last week, but in the dream it was done up the way she always had it.
I was about to pour some cereal when I needed to use the restroom, but Tom was taking his shower. I ended up using K&E's bathroom, and it was the first time I had stepped into their bedroom since Misha was put to sleep a couple weeks ago. I tried to hold my emotions in check, but the moment I stepped out of their room I walked straight over to Kevin and began crying my heart out.
I miss Misha. I miss my grandmother. My grandfather is still alive, but I feel like a horrible person for not going to see him more often, and for not seeing him even once over the past two years until it was time to bring him the news of Grandma. I see my mom's mom periodically enough that, while I know I could increase the occurrences, I don't necessarily feel bad for not making more of an effort. With my dad's parents though, I feel like an absolute total heel for not visiting more often. We hadn't even celebrated Thanksgiving or Christmas with them the past couple of years, mostly because ... hell, I don't want to think of the reasons. The reasons are numerous and hollow in the face of death. I loved them dearly, and they knew I loved them, but it still doesn't take away the pain and guilt I feel for not visiting.
The part that hurt the most was him asking me who I was during that conversation. I'm not sure if it was just confusion from me moving from one side of the room to the other, since I felt sure that he recognized me right before Dad gave him the bad news, or if I really did look that much like a stranger. After a few minutes he felt horrible himself for even asking and was trying to beg my forgiveness while crying over the loss of his wife. It was fucking horrible.
I hate this level of sadness and loss. I can feel my stomach churning and my lungs wanting to collapse from not being able to breath. I don't share my feelings and emotions on this level simply because it's so damned hard to control them. My active imagination and high empathy will cause me to cry at the drop of a hat. Any "sad" movie will require me to be sitting next to a box of Kleenex.
True loss, and especially two back to back like this, really hurts. I know the pain will fade, but in the mean time I'm still working through it.
