just a rose will do

I hate the phrase "It's not fair." Life is not fair. No one ever promised it would be. But today I found myself telling Peppy, "It is not fair that we buried my grandmother today and I felt nothing." It is surreal and dreamlike. I thought that the wellbutrin was going to fix this, and it has fixed many things, like my brain fog and no longer feeling like I am in the backseat of my body. But to feel emotionally numb to this is like a curse. 

Friday I went with my mom and Memaw to find my grandaddy a suit, my grandmother a dress, and to pick out flowers. I was also on a mission to find dress pants for my kids, which is an adventure in itself. We drove all over the place and I don't know if I was picking up on everyone's emotions or what, but I texted Peppy and told him I physically felt like I was having a panic attack only I wasn't feeling anxious. As I was typing out the text I felt drunk, without actually feeling drunk, because I couldn't seem to type at all. My body physically felt like I was in shock without mentally feeling anything. Sometimes I think covid just caused my mind to perpetually be in shock. 

We found Grandmother a beautiful dress that she would have loved. And somehow I found pants for the kids. It was a very stressful day of running around for about 9 hours. When I got home I was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't turn off. I had trouble going to sleep because in my head kept replaying an Enrique Iglesias song that I heard in the mall that day. 

Saturday I woke up feeling like a smooshed turd. I had to run to town with Peppy because neither of us had black shoes. I ended up buying basically the same sandals that I already had in brown. There was one other pair that was speaking to me, but they weren't really funeral appropriate. I tried to take a nap when we got home, but that was unsuccessful. 

I guess I'm a creature of habit.

The visitation was later that evening and it wasn't so bad. My grandmother looked nice and her dress looked beautiful on her. The funeral home had put together a slideshow with pictures we had all given to my dad. For some reason the funeral home didn't put any of the pictures that showed personality in the slide show. They were all somber and staged pictures. It was kind of odd. 

I pulled Blake into another room and asked him what he was feeling. "Numb," he said. "I literally feel nothing." I am not glad my younger brother is living this nightmare with me, but sometimes I need that validation that I'm not making this up.

We got up this morning and went to church with Grandaddy and then went back to his house until the funeral, which was also going to be at their church. Their former preacher did the eulogy and it was wonderful. I literally could not recall it right now, but as he was giving it I was aware that my attention felt stronger than it has in a year and a half. Gage even commented on how uplifting and hopeful it was, and that is very unlike him. He is also feeling the same numbness as me and my younger brother, so to hear him light up about the eulogy/sermon made me happy. (It seems especially unfair that my 14 year old is living this reality.)

Then we went to the cemetery and the worst part of everything was seeing Grandaddy's shoulders shaking as he cried. I just don't understand how I can feel empathy for him, but I can't feel anything for my grandmother. It felt like I was watching a movie about someone else. And I know this isn't one of the steps of grief either, because this is just like how I have felt with the two other funerals I have gone to this year. I guess the good news is that if aliens come, or WW3 starts, it is reasonable to assume that I probably won't freak out. 

My poor grandaddy. He is going to be so lost for a long time. He was being very nostalgic this afternoon and was telling me stories that I had never heard before about his early years with Grandmother. Fortunately for him, my family is amazing and I know not everyone is lucky enough to have such a strong support system. 

I'm sorry, Grandmother. You know I love you. Jonathan, Blake and I were laughing so hard this afternoon at memories of times spent at your house. Lawn mower races and the big, rusty wheel we pushed each other down hills on. It was weird being in your house and knowing you don't even exist on earth anymore. (I'm kind of jealous if I'm being honest. I know it is amazing and you wouldn't want to come back anyway.) It is hard to imagine that I will never come home with a freezer bag full of mini pecan pies that I would end up eating for breakfast. I know you wouldn't hold it against me that I'm not grieving, even if you didn't understand, because I don't understand it myself. I just know that this is something that has happened to many people all around the world. Something precious has been stolen from us. And it is not fair. It is really not fair at all. I guess it makes up for it that I have such a connected family. Family events won't feel the same without you. 

You know, I probably evoked something evil during Gage's Egyptian themed 6th birthday without even realizing it. 

When time shall come for my leaving

When I bid you adieu 

Don’t spend your money for flowers 

Just a rose will do.

I’ll go to a beautiful garden

When my life’s work is through.

Don’t spend your money for flowers 

Just a rose will do.

I want a good old-time preacher

To preach the gospel truth.

I want no tales of my history,

Then just a rose will do.

 I’ll need no organization

 To make a big to-do.

 Just have some good old-time singing,

 Then just a rose will do.