Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Letting Go, Part One.

So, unless you have never read my posts or live under a rock, you know that I am moving to Australia. In 15 days. so obviously my posts are few and far between at the moment. I’m sitting here at my mother’s house on my laptop, and I feel like I’m being pulled in a million directions. My core thought is to stay where I am, don’t change, and eventually you will get back on track. That is the way of Hed’s world, and my life has a magical way of working out. The other half says fuck it, get the hell out of my comfort zone, and really start anew, as fresh as I possibly can. I’m terrified. I have this hope that just being on new soil will make me wake up earlier, eat healthier and have more energy. But nothing on Earth changes you unless you change yourself, and I want to change. I think.

I’m always getting sidetracked when I write, by the way. I always have a solid idea of what I’m going to write, and my crazy brain always types what it wants. Okay, I’ll restart: I have a major roadblock in my head, and every time I even think about it, I break down. It’s my grandfather, Pop. He is my rock, the dad I should have had, the one that has done more for me than my dad (or anyone else) ever has, and my constant source of anxiety. You see, back before my grandmother died, my main goal was to make sure I wasn’t a fuck up so when they ultimately passed, they would die hopefully being proud of me. On April 1, 2006, I was casually dating, working as an assistant manager, and thinking about moving on my own for the first time ever. That was the night my mom called me and told me that my grandmother was in the E.R. because she had an allergic reaction to her medicine and was having a hard time breathing. Should I go to the hospital? No, she tells me, she’ll be fine. Forty-six days later, she died. I never had a chance to tell her I was moving, to tell her that I was okay, to pay her back what her and Pop graciously let me borrow. As soon as she died, I stopped looking at my grandfather as invincible. I now was on a MISSION to make sure that when, not if, he passed, I was a good person in his eyes.

Four years later, he’s still going strong. My parents and our family spend obscene amounts of time with him, and he adjusted pretty well to living alone after 55 years of couple-dom (P.S.-my grandfather is a prideful man, he wouldn’t even think about moving in with anyone else). It’s been my mom with the health problems-the melanoma, the carpal tunnel in both hands, the knee surgery, the knee cleaning surgery, the upcoming knee replacement surgery. The thing is, my morbid, depressed self looks at my grandpa and thinks DEATH. Death, death, death. He will die. Sooner than later. The thought of Pop dying stops me in my tracks. How am I (or my family, for that matter), supposed to function knowing the rock of my family is gone? In most instances, you would just spend as much time as humanly possible with that person and build up the strength to accept that everyone dies, right? I casually mentioned (through tears) to my mom that when I say goodbye to Pop when I move to Australia, it may be the last time. It’s not like I’m coming back next month or anything. Unfortunately, her response was, “it probably is”. Oh. Crap. When I say goodbye to Pop in two weeks and give him a hug, I’m pretty much giving my last respects. How the hell does one do that? Most people pay their last respects when someone is in a coma, or dying, or at a funeral, yet I am forced to say goodbye to a pretty healthy, alive person? I’m consumed with the thought. Of course, there’s a chance my mom may get cancer again. Or my best friend dies in a car crash. Or my grandpa will live to 110. Am I thinking about any of these? Of course not.

So that has been the major thought I’ve had, the reason I opened up Blogger to try and get this off my chest. Writing it all down usually helps me not only get it off my chest, but to let a thought or feeling rise up and float away, giving me a shred of clarity until a new worry pops into my head. But tonight, something cataclysmic happened that will never be undone. To be continued…


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