Being Mortal

It made me cry.

Throughout reading this book, I was constantly reminded of my great grandmother and my grandmother. My great grandmother passed away in 2012, when she was 96. She had had a rough life, being a widow at a fairly young age, brought up 6 children on her own, three of whom went to college. She was truly a remarkable woman.

Oddly, my grandmother passed away in 2012 too. She was in her seventies. She had been a widow for eight years, and she too, was a truly remarkable woman.

However, only my great grandmother got to be the author of her life. She lived on her own for decades, looked after herself, remained a sharp mind and everything. Until one day, she fell, broke a hip, and died two months later. She knew what she wanted, and she made sure she did get it. The day before she died, she summoned all of her kids, grandchildren as well as great grandchildren. She told us how much she loved us, and how proud she was seeing us. That night, she left the world in her sleep, very peacefully. She didn’t suffer. She might have suffered a lot, a lot all her life, but in the end she didn’t suffer death.

My grandmother had Alzheimer’s after my grandfather suddenly died of a stroke in 2004. She was devastated. I think it’s fair to say part of her died with him too. She became depressed, she spoke less, she started to forget things, and eventually she forgot herself, us, eating, sleeping, just everything. She lost so much weight in this 8-year fight. Or rather, she had given up the fight long ago. She just indulged herself drifting into the vast dark world, all by herself, like a drowning person. Darker, darker, darker. And she didn’t care whether she was alive, or dead. Or maybe she did, I don’t know.

I wish I knew.

I hate aging, dying, losing people I loved and cared. I hate saying goodbyes, I hate not getting to say goodbyes even worse. I’m almost driving myself crazy on this one. At some point, I guess we all would get old, frail, and yes, until the ultimate end comes. Or no. Sometimes you don’t become old first then die, you just die. I hate that part about life too.

I look around, there are my friends, and just, people. Look, how happy they seem. How young and hopeful they are. Even though not everything in life goes in the way they want, they get by. They live. They go back home, wake up, forget about yesterday or not, keep worrying or not, they live. They survive another day.

I’ve been banging my head against the wall recently, for a guy I think I really have a huge silly crush on who doesn’t seem to like me as much though. But then this happened. As I woke up this morning, I said to myself, “Mar, 2nd.” Now I’m kind of enjoying it.