New blog= New Angst.
This time its family.
Here's the deal:
My grandparents were wonderful people. They were the shining example of the married couple that I've always wanted to be (this was before I got married. Now I pretty much strive to not suffocate my husband with a chloroformed pillow in his sleep. When he has gone missing for a month or so, I"ll start telling people that he ran off with Zanny the slutty Nanny, and get off scott free. But I digress- FOCUS, AJ...).
My grandfather (who only lives through the first three minutes of this blog- gotta kill the black guy off early) was the mountain of our family, more than just a rock. The center of our family, like the center of a Himalayan village. His snowy hair was the wisdom that reminded me endlessly about God and reminded me to look to heaven for my help. He provided an endless stream of advice to all of us and kept us close with an iron grip that was all about loyalty, and in some cases, survival (or maybe he knew that we were a band of idiots. But that's another blog post...). He kept us all rooted, like a forest below the summit.
My grandfather died May of 2006.
Major day for my family, minor fact for this blog. Why?
The day my grandfather died, we all missed something huge:
In the midst of all our sorrow and opportunism, no one had realized that my grandmother had packed her proverbial shit and exited stage left right alongside my granddad. Mentally, that is. To be honest, my granny was "forgetful", and had probably been on a slow decline because of dimentia for awhile, but as long as the rock was there in his own slow decline to hold it all together, we all let things be as they were. But then he wasn't. And then, she wasn't (and then she blew up a microwave).
But in a way, she still is, and that is the angst I mentioned earlier...
So, here we all are.
Sad beginning, I know. Sorry about that. I promise it gets better. Downright hilarious in some cases, because you can't make shit like this up, regardless of how crazy your diagnosis(-es?) says you are.
So that, in a nutshell, is what this blog is all about: my life as I help my mother care for the body of my grandma, who died four years ago. The undead (thankfully) body that rises every morning (sometimes it's the body that rises at night to pee in the closet) and does things that will make you laugh your ass off, cry from the sadness of it all, or cover your mouth at the horror, and maybe the fruit flies. In any case, someone has to write this shit down (even if it's only to remind my own crazy mother of the things she said she would never do), so I guess it'll be me.
Welcome to AJ's Zombie Chronicles.
