Happenings.

My grandmother is being buried tomorrow. She died on Tuesday and I found out a short while later by phone. I've never lost a grandparent before. The only funerals I have been to have been great-grandparents and a family friend.


My Nana's death was not unexpected; to me, at least. I don't know. I think about things a lot. Constantly. Always thinking about what is about to happen next, running through the scenarios in my head.


She'd been in and out of the hospital for almost a year now and when I saw her on Sunday, she was running a fever and my mother (Nana was my maternal grandmother) spent the night there. I received a text on Monday saying she was in the hospital again and then a text on Tuesday asking me to call as soon as possible.


When I received the text, my first idea was that Nana had died. Not because of any evidence, but simply because it was one of a dozen or so things that ran through my head.


Perhaps it is my compartmentalisation, perhaps it is my lack of a sense of time about things, but I'm not particularly sad. I haven't cried at all or anything. I love my Nana, I've always felt a special connection with her. Over the summer, I'd spend several days at a time at her house, helping her around and getting her things to drink... My siblings were always to busy for that kind of thing. 


Her death is something that has happened. It is an event in my life. A momentary detour from normalcy. Tomorrow will feel like today, just as today feels like last week. People around me are always changing and I wonder why they do that.


What is it that drives people together during grief? My family all wants to be together and see people and do those kinds of things. I don't want that. I never want to be around people when I am feeling any emotion but the baseline. I don't want people to come and pat me on the back and tell me everything is okay, nor do I do that for other people. It's just not a part of who I am.


When I think of what I want to do, instead of a funeral and all of that, I see myself sitting alone, peacefully alone, and stacking smooth, flat stones on top of one another. I've always liked rocks, and she knew that.