It's amazing the toll the dying can take on the living. The last few weeks I've been exhausted, crabby, out-of-sorts, and just plain sad. I couldn't put my finger on it and it's been bugging me to no end. Everything is going right in my world--I have nothing to complain about.
Except that my grandpa is dying. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few weeks ago, and while we were hoping to have several months with him, hospice has now reduced his time to weeks. And, his impending death is weighing on me in a way the deaths of my grandmothers didn't, because I know it's coming. One grandma died unexpectedly (as unexpectedly as an 83 year old dies, that is), and my other grandma died within a week of a bad fall. With neither one of them did I have the chance to think about all of the things that needed to be said. Now I have that chance. I'm taking it--I wrote my grandpa a letter saying everything that I wished I had said to my grandma and all of the things that I'm glad I get to say to him. I'm so thankful to have that chance.
My grandpa's funeral will be my 6th funeral since October. It started with my college professor, Mark, then my grandma, then two former students back-to-back, then my godfather. I have to say, I would never have expected to lose so many family members in one year--I don't have that big of a family!
It's important to remember the toll death takes on the living. It's exhausting to operate daily tasks and grieve at the same time. I forget that, even with all of the funerals I've been to over the years. I'm expecting my insomnia to start soon-- it always does. I have to remember to be patient with myself in these times...to let myself be crabby and communicate with those around me that I'm really struggling. I need to turn to my sources--my family, friends, yoga, writing, to keep me sane.