So I’m officially 18 years old which would have been more exciting if not for the fact that my mom called me and told me my grandpa had given up fighting his sickness. Hospice has come in to help his… “transition” more comfortable.
The last two days have been filled with tears and avoiding eye contact with the girls I live with. I’ve been working on homework and somehow, it was planned somewhere in the divine dimension that my homework would require reflection on the current situation. Bleh.
I’m angry about it because my mom gets to spend however long he has left with him. It’s expected that he has days left if not hours. I really want to speak to him, but I haven’t been able to get ahold of him. This is totally lame.
RRRRG.
No comments:
Post a Comment
If you don't have something nice to say, please don't say anything at all.