Who am I?
I'm a little scared now.
I think I'm getting over my grandfather's death a little too quickly. I've cried, I've mourned, and I've accepted, and it's only been 5 days. I didn't cry when I saw him at the visitation tonight. I didn't cry because it didn't look like him at all; he was too pale, waxy, old, dead looking. That helped remind me that the thing in the casket wasn't him. I know that the dead thing in a box isn't my grandpa, it's just one of his old tools that he used when he was here. Now he's someplace better.
I've sort of been forced to move on rather quickly, because so much life has been happening. My cousin Ben graduated Monday night, I graduated last night and went to project graduation. I look to the future and I know what life will be like without him. I remember how much he means to me and how he's molded my life. Somehow, though, I've gotten to the acceptance part before he's even in the ground, and that's starting to make me nervous.
In a way I'm a little relieved. Like most people, my biggest fear my whole life has been that one of my parents or grandparents would die. When my father told me that my grandpa was dead, I was living a moment I had dreaded my whole life. To have experienced that moment and see life go on has been a relief to me, but I'm still nervous.
My mom says that we're all still in shock. That makes me nervous.
I can't say it enough. I'm nervous.
I've been much more depressed than this for much longer periods of time over stuff of much less significance.
And that really makes me nervous.
I thought I was just accepting it all too quickly, and dealing with my loss my own way...
...but now I'm really getting scared.
Who knows what I'm going to find out about myself before this is all over with? Maybe that's what scares me the most.
I think I'm getting over my grandfather's death a little too quickly. I've cried, I've mourned, and I've accepted, and it's only been 5 days. I didn't cry when I saw him at the visitation tonight. I didn't cry because it didn't look like him at all; he was too pale, waxy, old, dead looking. That helped remind me that the thing in the casket wasn't him. I know that the dead thing in a box isn't my grandpa, it's just one of his old tools that he used when he was here. Now he's someplace better.
I've sort of been forced to move on rather quickly, because so much life has been happening. My cousin Ben graduated Monday night, I graduated last night and went to project graduation. I look to the future and I know what life will be like without him. I remember how much he means to me and how he's molded my life. Somehow, though, I've gotten to the acceptance part before he's even in the ground, and that's starting to make me nervous.
In a way I'm a little relieved. Like most people, my biggest fear my whole life has been that one of my parents or grandparents would die. When my father told me that my grandpa was dead, I was living a moment I had dreaded my whole life. To have experienced that moment and see life go on has been a relief to me, but I'm still nervous.
My mom says that we're all still in shock. That makes me nervous.
I can't say it enough. I'm nervous.
I've been much more depressed than this for much longer periods of time over stuff of much less significance.
And that really makes me nervous.
I thought I was just accepting it all too quickly, and dealing with my loss my own way...
...but now I'm really getting scared.
Who knows what I'm going to find out about myself before this is all over with? Maybe that's what scares me the most.
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