Death

Something just occurred to me.

My father’s death didn’t effect me. It really didn’t. I mirrored other people’s emotions a little, feeling shitty because they did, but I felt very little myself.

The reasons for this are many and varied, but there were two important factors…

Firstly, he and I hadn’t been getting on for some time. A little while before he died I discovered he’d written a will that stated that I’d only get some of his worldly wealth if he and I were on good terms when he died. I believe I reacted to this news by sending him a text saying he could stick his will up his arse. You can imagine how well that went down.

Secondly – he died in France. He pissed off without telling me, spent a week away without me noticing, and basically never came back. I never saw his body. I never saw him going down hill – I just never saw him again. It’s a common enough experience in my life that it doesn’t jar. People I consider close friends (like Scott or Stacy) I just simply don’t speak to for months or years at a time. I’m asocial. I just don’t do interaction. I’m happy when I get into a social situation, but I don’t go looking for it.

Now, remember those two factors. And then look at Granny and Pop. A couple who were the parents I didn’t have. The two I love with all my heart, and I see them both on a regular basis. I watch them failing and falling apart.

I fed granny last night. I had to do the “big aeroplane” thing to get spoonfuls of banana and icecream into her mouth. When I arrived she had her ‘sippy cup’ twisted round by 180 degrees, so that when she tipped it up to get the mouthpiece in her mouth the tea poured out of the vent. They look after her there, but they quite simply can’t do 1 on 1 care there.

*sigh*

Tags: family, old timers