Saturday, January 22, 2011

It all started with strange dreams ...

and then it got worse.

As far as the dreams, I don't remember a whole lot. I woke up from one because a grizzly bear fell on me.
Yeah, like the Australian drop-bears ... but a Grizzly.

The other was ... weird. As in girl-on-girl action. Not my kinda thing.
But, hey, at least my stomach was flat and I had skinny thighs.

And I'm totally happy NOT participating in any of that kinda thing.
I have Michael and he's enough. Really. And he's fine with the fact that I don't have that toned stomach and thin thighs. Thank goodness. (Either that or it's a good thing he doesn't wear his glasses all the time. :P)

But then, after I had gotten up, gotten showered and was about to start breakfast (while Michael, poor guy, was sleeping off this bad flu) ...


Just got the call I didn't want to get. Even more than the call that I got this morning.



As I was saying, I was showered. Michael was sleeping off the flu/thing that he's been fighting (took a sick day yesterday, even). Kids were in their PJs.

Mom C texted. We needed to get to the hospital now if we wanted to see Grandpa.
We all got dressed in a hurry. Even (especially) Michael, as he was sweating out that fever. And we ran over to the hospital.
I waited with the kids while Michael went to see Grandpa.
(Grandpa is one of the biggest influences on Michael. And I've adored him since I've met him, too.)
I got to see him. He was heavily sedated, so he was sleeping.

I really kinda hoped that maybe there'd be a last-minute miracle-type-of-thing ... but, you know, I was totally going to understand if there wasn't. I mean, it'd be nice if all genocide would miraculously stop, too ... and that'd take a miracle ...

We hung around the hospital for a few hours. Most of the family was there. From what we knew, people were waiting until all the family got to come and say good-bye before they decided to pull the plug.
After people had eaten lunch (runs to Arby's and a burger place downtown) at the hospital, we dispersed to various locations.
C&A took all the kids, theirs and ours, to A's parents house to play.
Michael and I headed home so he could sleep off the rest of his plague (he started to feel better. Better enough that he's sure that a nap -- which I had to wake him up from -- and a shower will have him back to normal. Phew).
T1, J, T2, and W headed to T2 and W's place.
Along with most of the cousins in the area heading to various places.

And then, a few minutes after we all left, Grandma decided. And they pulled the plug.

And Grandpa's gone.

As hard as it is for me, I'm sure that it's harder for Michael.
Still, all the feelings that I had when Pop-pop died ... I remember them. I know how it feels.
(It's not like when my mom's stepfather died. I was, sad to say, glad to see him go. Long story. Bad story. And not because it happened to me. It didn't. But still.)

Michael handles his emotions differently than I do.
I cry. I fret. I complain how it feels like death is this betrayal/abandonment. Even though I KNOW that it's temporary. I KNOW that we will all be resurrected. I KNOW that families can be together forever.

It still hurts. I still HATE IT that I can't get a hug, get advice from these loved ones. I hate that I can't remember the exact timbre of their voices, each note of their personal scents, how their skin feels. I can look at pictures of them ... I can hear and even tell stories about them ...

It's not the same.

And I hate that. HATE. IT. SO. MUCH.


Driving back home from the hospital, before we knew that Grandpa was really going to die in the immediate future (we knew it'd be this afternoon or this evening. ... But that's not NOW, you see.)(Although, now it's the past. And it's HAPPENED.), I thought, "I'll blog about this. And, maybe, just maybe, I'll wake up tomorrow and go to read my blog. And it won't be there. Because it's all a bad dream."

Yeah, fat luck on that one.

Is "fat luck" even a phrase? If not, it should be. Kind of some combination of "fat chance" and some kind of sarcastic luck.

My head hurts. My eyes hurt. I hate days filled by tears. I hate being emotional.

Oh, T2 just called. Wanted to make sure that we knew. Sweet girl.

After Mom C called, I woke up Michael to let him know. (He's my #1 priority.)
Then I texted back to his cousin, K, who'd I'd been texting back and forth with, giving updates ... since I promised her that I'd let her know what I knew, as I got it.
And I called my mom's machine. Again. And left a message.
And started to cry again.

I had already explained to the kids what was happening, this morning, while Michael was upstairs at the hospital, visiting Grandpa.
That, when you get old, your body doesn't always work like it should. You body gets old, too, and when it doesn't work right, you die.
And that we shouldn't be too sad, since we will be together again. It'll just take a while. And we will miss people when they die. But that it's not for FOREVER.
And, when we get to see them again, they'll have their bodies back. And their bodies will be perfect. They won't be in pain or sick or anything.

Poor Michael. Both of his grandfathers have died.
I still have one left. I'm not all that close to him ... but there's the fact that he's still alive.
I can't even imagine how this feels for Dad C. I don't know how I'd feel if/when my dad dies.
Though, really, Dad C and his dad are closer than I feel with my dad.
And poor Mom C. She's cried more than anyone, I think. I wish I knew what to do to help.

All I want to do is to crawl in some hole/cave and just sleep. And, maybe, when I wake up, things will be perfect again.
My house will be clean.
Everyone will be alive.
No one will be sick or in pain.
Gingi-cat and Di-di will be back.

So ... yeah. That's most of what's pertient around here.

How was YOUR day?
(PLEASE say it was better. PLEASE. Lie to me, if needed. I really want there to be GOOD things happening today. Because if everyone's day is this sucky ... I may just lose the will to live. So, PLEASE have had a better day. And tell me what was great. I'd appreciate it.)


Hilary said...

I wish I could give you a hug! I'm sorry for your family's loss. You'll be in my prayers! (((HUGS))))

Anonymous said...

Oh, honey... I am so, so sorry. :-( I went ahead and put "The Cox Family" on the prayer roll, as well as the name that you requested. Looking back, I am sure that it was the Spirit that prompted me to do so. Every single one of you is covered. My faith and prayers are with you at this time.

I love you. :'-(

Crystal said...

Im sorry for your loss :( I was at my grandparents house in Jefferson earlier this evening. My parents were there too, and my grandma said to my mom "Brother Cox passed away" and my mom just about lost it :( She really loved and respected him. I said "he was pretty elderly though, right?" and she said "yes, but he was SUCH a good man". They said he bore his testimony last fast sunday, and that he was just amazing. I'm sure he has much important work to do where he's at now :) It sounds like he was an upstanding person, and a strong member of the church.

Jennifer said...

I'm sorry for your whole family's loss :( If there is anything we can do, let us know! Sending hugs and prayers your way!

You wanted to know how our day was- it was infact a lovely day spent celebrating Sabrina's 8th birthday. She got to do anything she wanted and we had a great day of family and fun filled with laughs and love :)

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