Thursday, May 10, 2012

The last one (Alternately titled: So many parentheses, woman!)

B's grandma died Sunday. The funeral was today, the visitation yesterday. She was old, she'd had a stroke in January, and it was more or less expected. Even so, it's been a rough week around these parts.

This is the first and only grandparent B and his sisters have lost since they've been old enough to know what's going on. This is my fifth and - thankfully - last.* I've had enough of the dead grandparent thing (and we're just going to ignore the "my parents/in-laws are going to die someday, too" thing for now).

Even with an abundance of grandparent loss experience (the most recent was my grandpa, who died on Christmas Day right after I turned 21), I don't feel that I've done a very good job of supporting B in his grief. If you've ever read this blog or you follow me on Twitter, you've probably gotten the impression that things aren't great with he and I right now. They're not. I think that's part of the reason I'm having a hard time being there for him - I don't feel like much of a wife and don't play the role well at the moment. Playing a happily married couple in public this week was surprisingly difficult. Another part of it is the fact that he bottles all of his emotions and doesn't talk about anything or let anyone help him. And the third part of the problem is, as always, me. It's sort of difficult to help another person through their grief when you're more or less emotionally dead inside.

I loved B's grandma. She was a stubborn old bat who gave up on keeping her opinions to herself years ago. She always liked me, which I'm told was no small feat. I'm theoretically sad that she's gone. But I can't feel it. I don't feel anything (if you don't count the frustration and annoyance I felt regarding my lack of time off and all of the funeral-related stuff I was obliged to attend). Luckily, I'm still attuned enough to social cues that I cried at appropriate times and didn't do anything too crass or offensive. I hugged and I chatted and I carried flower arrangements to the car. I was a good granddaughter-in-law. But it was all just a show. I'm sure this doesn't make any sense, but lately I feel like my body knows the emotions I'm feeling, but my brain and heart don't. Take right now, for example. I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face, but I just feel...bored? Apathetic? Meh? Something like that. Yet another lovely bump in the road of my recovery.

Beyond me being a heartless ass, everything went as well as it could have. B wanted me to bring the boys to the visitation for a bit so all the cousins we never seen could see (i.e. meet) them. I was not excited about this because W doesn't do well with crowds and noise, and Grandma's sons, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and spouses alone total more than 50 people. And R is two. But they actually did very well. My mom went with me so she could take them back to her house when they'd had enough, and between her, me, and everyone in B's immediate family, we kept them quiet and under control (with the exception of one little incident when my brother-in-law scared the hell out of W). The service was nice, she looked great, B got to see eight of his nine cousins for the first time in several years, yadda, yadda, yadda. I think we're all glad it's over.

I feel really badly for my younger sister-in-law, though. She was the closest to Grandma of all the grandkids. SIL is getting married at the end of June, and wanted nothing more than for Grandma to make it to the wedding. She lives far, far out of state, so she hadn't seen Grandma since Christmas (before she really went downhill). She's coming home for her showers next weekend, and she was really looking forward to seeing Grandma one more time. She's taking this hard.

On a happier and unrelated note, I scored a kick ass deal on a set of bunk beds the other day. Someone in our hometown (where B just happened to be) listed a set of solid oak bunk beds with mattresses and several sets of sheets for $100. I saw the ad not long after it was posted and called right away. As $100 is far, far cheaper than we could possibly buy all that stuff new (and I haven't had any luck finding used ones), I told them we'd give them the asking price, and could pick them up that night. Luckily, I was the first to respond. And now we have the bunk beds we've been wanting for the boys' room when they finally move in together. The bed has a couple of places that look a bit rough, and could use a couple of coats of varnish if nothing else, but they're in pretty good shape. I'm trying to decide if I want to strip and re-stain them, or if I'm not going to be that motivated this summer. Regardless of that, yay for good, cheap furniture!

* I guess, technically, my dad's mom is still alive, but we haven't seen or heard from her in the past 15 or so years, so I'm guessing I'm not going to make the trip to Florida (if that's even where she still lives...she might be in Georgia now. I don't remember) for her funeral when the time comes.

2 comments:

Kimberly said...

I'm so sorry for your loss and that you had to go through that.
I had no idea that things weren't well and I can't even imagine how hard that must've been to go through.
Huge hugs and lots of strength.

-R- said...

Just want to say that I hope you're doing ok.