This Crazy Thing We Call Life

I know, from experience, that the way I deal with death isn't normal.  Or maybe it is, I guess, because the first stage of grief is denial.

During high school, when my grandmother died my senior year (during mid-terms) I simply didn't believe it.  I had JUST come back from a visit to see her, and it simply wasn't real.  In college two years later my grandfather passed away in his sleep.  I spent most of the time around his funeral stripping old outdoor chairs and putting together a flower basket for him. 

Sure, I cry, but not as much as you would think I would, considering I cry all the time over little things.  I simply don't deal with emotions right away.  It takes me a while to process everything.

But that doesn't mean that I'm not grieving. 

This morning I found out that my maternal grandmother passed away.  I am so sad that my grandmother won't be able to meet the twins.  I had looked forward to calling her and asking her more about raising twins.  I don't feel like I learned as much from her as I could have, as I'd planned to. She was going to be my go to girl.

I can't feel bad for her though.  She really wanted to move on.  After Grandpa died, she was really lonely, despite every effort to make sure she frequently had company.  She didn't want to die in pain, and she got her wish.  Instead she died in her sleep, completely unexpectedly.  There's a certain pattern here, between both sets of grandparents.  One grandparent dies of a chronic lung problem, two years later their spouse dies quietly and peacefully in their sleep.  Interesting, isn't it, that on BOTH sides of the family that would happen.

I wonder if the twins not arriving on time has anything to do with this.  The timing, of course, is terrible, but it could have been worse.  We have a few more days to deal with loss before new life begins. 

A sick cat, a grandmother passing, a husband taking on more responsibilities at work, a loss of a job prospect, a delayed birth.  It's all nuts.  You can go months, years, without feeling the pull of all the different strands of life, and then suddenly life is all around you like a whirlwind.  It never makes any sense.  But it's life.  And, in it's own weird, chaotic way, it's beautiful.

It is as if I'm in a boat battling a storm, and with the help of God and a little adrenaline, I am surviving the storm. But wow, what a storm.