My Mamaw
Date: Dec 20th, 2004 8:41:29 am - Subscribe
Mood: broken
Well. I thought it was odd that my grandma would call at nearly 3 am. And I thought it was wierd that when I called back no one answered. But then I thought maybe she had accidentally called and didn't realize it, so when I called her, she just courteously called back to say sorry.
I thought wrong.
My mamaw passed away.
Is it just me, or is life just taking a big shit on me?
*sighs* Sorry, I don't mean to sound so woe is me, but alot of things have been going wrong lately, Jason's wreck, Cleek passing away, Brett breaking up with me, and now this..I don't know.
Things have been going good, too, though. I mean, I really don't have that horrible of a life.
I just have this one huge regret.. thursday, I was in Union City. I was at the nursing home. I was getting into the car. And daddy said something about going to say hi to Mamaw, but I nudged him along to leaving, stating that "I know she won't be here for much longer, and we probably should stop in for a moment, but you know how things like that go, moments turn into hours, and I can't be late for work."
I know, it sounds so stereotypical, the whole, you don't know what you've got till it's gone..well, that's not what I mean. I mean it just bothers me that I would say such a thing, and now look what happens. It's sad to me, that one day I will be in her place, and my great grand-daughter will say the same thing. But, though I'd never know she'd done it, if I found out I know I would nod and agree, that yes, moments turn to hours, and that she musn't be late to work.
It's wigging me out that something so stereotypical is happening. It shouldn't, but it does.
I just. I don't know. I don't want to go to her visitation or her funeral. I don't want to face my "grandfather" and offer condolenses that he doesn't deserve to hear. That bastard deserves to hurt more than anyone ever thought was possible, and I will never have sympathy for him. My sympathy goes to those who were actually worthy of my Mamaw's wisdom and love.
I will not put my hand on his shoulder and say I'm sorry. I will not tell him time heals all wounds, I will not let him even falsely think that I care if he hurts or not. As a matter of fact, if I say anything to him, I will say something that will be like pouring salt in the wound. Something to the effect of "You should be in her place, and you're time is coming you sick bastard. I will never forget, and I will -defenitely- never forgive. Mark my words, I will never cry at your funeral. I will never feel bad. Matter of fact the frown on my face if one happens to turn up, will be due to the thought that I wasn't lucky enough to kill you myself."
And I'll walk away to cry for the wonderful woman who so unfortunately bore such a dispicable man.
I just know though, that no matter what, this is going to rip me apart. Seeing her in the casket will toss me into flashbacks of Cleeks funeral. Of his wake. Of the tears I shed for him. Even thinking about it now makes me tear up..makes me whimper. I don't know if I'll be able to pull myself together this time around.
Comments: (0)