🎧 listening to Your Deep Rest by The Hotelier
🌔 moon phase is 87% waxing gibbous
My Grandpa died September 27th. I was getting off my shuttle for work and usually I sleep on the shuttle because the ride is so long, so I went to my car and sifted through messages I missed. I had several missed phone calls and a voice mail from my Grandpa's phone. My Grandpa always leaves a voice mail when I don't answer but this time it was my Mom. She was frantically telling me to get to her house because Grandpa had died. My Mom lives with my Grandpa. I quickly drove over to their house to find my cousin, who also lives with my Grandpa on the ground sobbing with his girlfriend, my Grandpa was already taken away DOA and my Mom was in shock. He died of a heart attack. I quickly asked my mom where my sister and where my aunt was. My aunt is close with my Grandpa and I needed my sister to be there to support my Mom. I left and immediately went to my aunt's house. I walked in without knocking, she was laying on the couch with her daughter and I told her what happened. Hindsight this isn't how she should've found out but her being the last to know wasn't fair. She immediately started crying, she has 7 kids, her older daughters start crying with their Mom. This is their grandpa too, but this is my aunt's father. At that point everyone around me was crying and I didn't know what to do. I am not the person to lean on when dealing with family trauma, I'm very emotionally distant with all of them besides my brother and sister. I told them I had to leave and get to my sisters house, my sister and I haven't talked in 2 years, I went through an entire serious relationship and she had never even met him. I went to her house and immediately gave her a hug and our fight was over as if it never happened. Finally I could cry. We sat together talking for real how we felt about our Grandpa's death and what is going to happen next. I have such a complicated relationship with my Grandpa, I didn't talk to him for 10 years despite him raising me. I don't know if I've ever written about it on here, I have past entries that were deleted I can't remember. But my mom is an addict and I didn't meet my dad until I was 14. My mom, my aunt, my uncle, my brother, my sister and me all lived in the same house with my Grandma and Grandpa. My mom and uncle were both in and out of the house struggling with addiction. My aunt and my uncle were both adopted as babies and were very much like my older brother and sister growing up. I don't know anyone who is normal after being raised by their grandparents but my household was abnormal. I won't go into detail but there were things that happened by my Grandpa to one of my family members that made me go cold towards him, other family members went cold towards me in support of him. Including my brother who had never met his Dad, so my Grandpa was his father figure and even called him Dad.
A year and half ago maybe two years ago I decided to forgive my Grandpa, the person he had harmed had never stopped talking to him despite a long court case where they (the victim) dropped the charges because of how much they were groomed. While the court case was occurring I was in elementary school. I refused to talk to them out of support for my Grandpa despite actually hearing my Grandpa admit to the allegations more than once. I remember my Grandma slept on the couch until she passed away from cancer, I heard him admit to her. The person it happened to drove me to my Mom's prison for visitation once, I was a teenager I might've been 16 I can't remember. I told them some things I remembered, the proof that I had that I know it happened, and an apology for not supporting them when I was younger. It made them cry and even though we stopped being close growing up they know that I knew what happened and that I understand. I mention this after mentioning that I forgave my Grandpa because it was really hard for me and that I did it half hearted. What happened was that he was reaching out to me. I'd see him once and while at a store since I had moved back to my home town, he was so skinny and so old. I could never explain why I felt so bad for not talking to him. Having sympathy for someone I saw as a villain be vulnerable, I can't explain it. Anyways, I didn't drive. I never had my license at this time. I was walking to get my nails done, it was just down the street from me. I was walking and my Grandpa whom I hadn't talked to until this moment yelled at me from the driver side if I wanted a ride. I felt embarrassed, I declined, I always decline rides anyways because I enjoy zoning out and listening to music, he was persistent and I felt ashamed. I said okay, being less than a block away from the salon and he dropped me off and told me if I ever needed a ride I could ask him.
I talked to my sister about it and she was in support of me talking to him again. And that's when I started talking to him again. We never mentioned the past, we just moved forward. Eventually I started asking for rides to the shuttle for work and he drove me everyday since then, that's when I started working on my license, I wanted to get my license before I turned 30 and thanks to him I did. I bought my car from him, I took my drivers test in that car and when I passed he let me drive it despite not having it fully paid off. Since then he was in my life. Helping me with understanding the car, I'd come over to his house and see my Mom. He'd vent to me about my Mom's problems, his problems with my cousin living at his house.
So when I heard that voice mail I was in shock. I didn't cry. I had wished death upon him when I was younger, saying the world would be a better place without him. I never thought he would die. And now he's dead, and I don't understand why I feel so sad. Everyday since I've been back at work I'd be approaching town after my shift and remember his car in the parking lot ready to pick me up and I can't help to cry. He was my caretaker, he had full custody of me and neglected the needs of all his children and grandchildren, even harmed one of us so significantly and yet I miss him. It's as if I had forgave in time for him to forgive himself. I remember him saying things like that he's my Grandpa and that he'd always be there for me.
Life is so complicated constantly. The family member he had harmed, I know its as if a burden was lifted. That specific family member completely planned out the funeral and memorial. My mom had zero resources to do that, she is incapable of any responsibilities at all. But for some reason someone he had harmed so much was able to do it. I can't imagine being close to someone who had done the things he did to them. I can't say if its a type of stockholm syndrome but thats probably exactly what it is.
My responsibility was to bring my brother down to our hometown, he lives in the west coast now. I used my savings to bring him and his wife here and it was actually a very healing experience. He called Grandpa his dad at the funeral, everyone sobbed. He told me he believes my Grandpa actually did those things to our family member. Maybe it's because he's older now. Nobody called my Grandpa a good man at his funeral, it seems that my experience with him was shared. I guess it makes me feel less alienated. His death brought me peace and deep deep confusing sadness.
My mom's gonna be homeless though, I guess she has a quarter of a million dollars waiting for her but she doesn't have a birth certificate or ID so she can't access it. I want to disappear because I'm being asked to help her. I don't have very much emotional bandwidth to do deal with the roller coaster of my Mom.
Also, weeks before my Grandpa's death I started seeing a therapist and got back on my anti depressants and am now on mood stabilizers. Divine timing to sort through these feelings and emotional and physical labor I'm doing for my Mom.
I don't know how much of this makes sense, maybe I'll go back later to reread and reword but for now I'll just leave it as is.
So while you're fixing up your bed
So while you’re organizing drawers
Could you just listen to the problems had
With problems of yours?
And what’s that note you’re writing there?
Why are you giving me this back?
This was a gift from when we met
Back when you weren’t so upset
I called in sick from your funeral
The sight of your body made me feel uncomfortable
I couldn’t recognize your shell
Your branching off had met an end
From all the weight that made you bend
And when you tried to shed your leaves
You pined for warmth as they said
“Your lack of love for your dear self
Is sapping all of us here out!
Trace your roots back to the ground
Work out the knotholes for yourself”
I called in sick from your funeral
The sight of your family made me feel responsible
And I found the notes you left behind
Little hints and helpless cries
Desperate wishing to be over
You said you’re trapped in your body
And getting deeper every day
They diagnosed you born that way
They say it runs in your family
A conscious erasure of class background
Where despair trickles down
Imbalanced chemical crutch
Open up, swallow down
You said “Remember me for me
I need to set my spirit free”
I called in sick from your funeral
I called in sick, I called in sick
Tradition of closure nearly felt impossible
I called in sick, I called in sick
I should have never gave my word to you
Not a cry, not a sound
Might have learned how to swim
Never taught how to drown
You said “Remember me for me"
I watched you set your spirit free