I guess when I post a rather emotional statement about grief and then disappear for over a week, it looks as if I’m stuck in that state, when in fact life doesn’t really let you just be sad. There is still shit to do.
I did really, really, really appreciate that I was able to take a week off work to be with Dad at the hospital, and the week after that to do some minor preparations for the memorial (in truth, I didn’t do much, but I wrote an obituary and biography for the booklet) and mostly zone out. Given previous jobs where I was denied vacation and always had to carry around a blackberry, I don’t think I would’ve been able to drop work like that had I not been where I am now. My coworkers were awesome, taking over my work to the point that I had no backlog when I came back. They deserve many hugs.
I did also get to visit my mom over the weekend, which helped so much too. My comment in the last post about my being most like my dad is quite apparent when I see Mom, because we aren’t much alike at all. Our voices are similar, but in looks and persona we differ to the point that people have shown surprise at hearing I’m her daughter. Though I think I have her ankles.
Due to my stepmother’s generosity I now own Dad’s car, and have paid off the remainder of my student loans. These sorts of things normally deserve a celebration but I would rather have Dad and debt and no car, to be honest. It feels as wrong to be happy about them as it does not to. But I named the car “The Pillock” because Heather and Kimli named their cars so I figured I’d have to, plus I grew up listening to Dad yelling at all the “bloody pillocks” on the road (I think I was a teenager before I learned that the word didn’t mean “bad driver”). And I guess this will mean less time spent with smelly, drunk and insane people on the Skytrain (I always picked the best times to travel).
But as I said, there is shit to do. My work won’t do itself (I’ve tested this in the past by ignoring it; nope), my cat won’t feed herself (though she stole my muffin this morning) and the condo won’t pay its mortgage. Life is dragging me forward, and I’m trying my best to let it.