Well tragedy has struck my little family. I have had two parents like most people. One of them was my mother and one of them was my mom's mom. My grandma. It's not like my grandma is young in any way, and it's not like we didn't have warning, but my grandma is no more. December 28th of last year grandma had a stroke and while in the hospital recovering from the stroke the doctors found cancer. Very aggressive, terminal, mass amounts of cancer. Cancer that was so big in her breasts that one of the doctors asked if she had implants. She didn't of course. Although if I make it to g-mas age, I'll get me some fake boobies. So we were told that she had a couple of months to live and with any luck she would go before it got too painful to live. It sorta went like that. She made it seven months with mild pain until the last month or so. A month of pain. My mom, sister and I have lived with my grandma our entire lives. Up until my sister moved in with her boyfriend and I got a trailer up the street. Not many days have gone by where I haven't seen her for a least a few hours. We gave up a lot of things to have such a life. Our childhood was cut short because grandma wasn't the healthiest of people and some days were spent at doctors appointments and whatnot. We got made fun of for smelling like cigarette smoke in school, and we had to put up with endless hours of Days of Our Lives, which is a hell all it's own. But we also had a friend that would cry with us when we were sad, wrap blankets around us when we were cold, and who showed us what love should look like. Some things we will never know, or will learn at a far later point in life, (mostly the manly fatherly things) but we got some great lessons. I used to resent the life I had. We were, and still are, poor. We never got everything we wanted and some months we lived on potatoes and ramen noodles. We sometimes shared a two bedroom house with four people. I used to think that we were behind, that we would never get ahead in this messed up world. Now I'm seeing things a little different. That saying 'can't take it with you when you go' is beyond true. The stuff in grandma's room doesn't make a bit of difference now. It's empty. Just like the corpse that wore her face. The second her spirit left for whatever fate it was destined to, her body was a shell. A meaningless shell. Some people might see the life I choose to live as worthless but what does it matter in the end. Was I happy? Did I make enough memories to carry with me? I think it's time to reevaluate what is really important in life. Yes I will always be in student loan debt, but I had a good time in college and I don't buy anything anymore if I don't have cash to do so. Yes I will be working till the day I die, but I know the value of a dollar and the satisfaction of a good days' work. My hard life has made me a strong person. Right now when I feel like I need to solve all the problems, need to save my family from what comes next, with life without grandma, I have to remember that I'm stronger than I think. That we are stronger that we think. I have to pull on that and every last ounce of Faith that I possess. We are going to be okay. We are going to be okay. Both Faith and that conviction are lacking though while I'm trying to ignore my breaking heart. Even though He is silent I still pray. Even though I want to curl up and cry I get up. I'm thinking these are the things that really matter.
Sorry for the seriousness but hey I'm a writer, I have to get it out of me somehow.
Be a Warrior.
God bless.
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