An Annual Afterthought

If I were to place a percentage of good versus the bad in the span of a year, I would have to say that the year is 90% good and 10% bad. The bad, as always, seems worse than it is.

With regards to that 10% bad, it can be further broken down to 7% during the holiday season (that being November to December) and the other 3% being this past week. Most interestingly is that it is this past week that tends upsets me more than the other 7%.

You see, this past weekend, was my birthday. I received one card from my family. I got birthday texts, but two of those felt like last minute “oh right, it is your birthday.”

It is how it has been for the past several years. At this time of year, I feel like an afterthought.

Sure, I can say that this year it was because of my grandmother’s death. However, every year, it is not one thing it is another. It is always something.

It hurts. I admit it does hurt.

Also, it is alright. I am okay with it. It is only one day. Sure, it is my birthday, but I have already had 41 birthdays prior to this one. I will have many more.

I am not really convincing, am I?

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Not quite numb. Not quite feeling. More like existing.

BibaMy grandmother passed away last weekend, on February 13th. Since then, it has been a random mixtape of emotions. This is to be expected. It managed to stop my forward momentum. And it should. I should take some time to mourn the loss of my grandmother. I should take some time to adjust to my grandmother no longer being around. I should take time to sort out the “What now?” moments.

And I am. And I will.

I should be adjusting. I should be transitioning the worry and stress I was feeling in related to my grandmother’s health and its overall effect on the family to some new feelings. Joy. Release. Happiness. Relief.

And I am.

I should be returning to a normal.

But I should not rush it.

But I do not want to be feeling like this any longer.

I feel aimless. I feel like I am in limbo. I feel numb. No? I feel numbish.

I prefer the numbish not stay around much longer. I prefer to no longer feel aimless.

Just needed to get this out there

Note: I am still working this out in my head. I have been working on it in my head for a few days. Mortality does that I think. In my dreams, it is showing itself with rage. When I am awake, I am distracting myself with keeping busy doing simple things, like errands and baking the traditional Czech Christmas bread my grandmother baked every year. Well, until she no longer could. And there is no recipe, it was in her head. All we know is it was a little bit of this and a little bit of that. So, mine is Internet-based, with I hope future edits from my mother. Here’s hoping. My grandmother has an endosocopy set up for this morning at 10:30 AM. She is 90. Her heart is weak. There is a chance she might not wake up. There is always a chance, I guess. 

My grandmother is dying. She has been slowly dying for a while now. You can say she has been dying since my grandfather passed away at the end of 2008. However, this year, in particular, the pace has picked up.

Dementia. Kidney failure. No, not kidney failure but a renal artery blockage. And now, a mass in the esophagus. A pressure ulcer coccyx, perhaps? It could be. It could be something else. Whatever it is, my grandmother cannot eat, she can only swallow small amounts of liquid. Even then, she is throwing up. The only way to know for sure what it is, an endoscopy needs to be performed. What we do know, for sure, is she is slowly starving to death.

In October, at my wedding, I said “goodbye” to her. I told her to go and be with her husband, do not stay around for us. I feel she has been on borrowed time since. The slowness, it is taking its toll on everyone else. My grandmothers does not know. The dementia helps with that.

Yesterday, I found myself thinking about euthanasia. Why is it not okay to allow people, seniors for example, the choice to end their lives when their quality of life is so diminished. It should be that person’s right to make the decision for themselves.

Hunter S Thompson had it right. He went out on his own terms. My grandmother should be allowed as well.