the night my grandma died...

the memories it brings back are so strong it's hard to mourn for the most recent.

the phone rang. i was just getting lost in a drawing for the evening. i saw "dad" on the caller id and my heart started racing. i knew something was wrong. the news had come by the tone in his voice and then massive rushes of various emotions combined with confusion of quickly planned travel situations. a night i least expected anything out of the norm (or is this out of the norm?) came a weaping blast of memories; good, bad, sad, dark, horrifyingly vast amounts of different information. a headache appeared out of no where. what do i think? what do i say? how do i act? what is my real emotion right now? i don't know how to feel.

my dad was supposed to come visit me this weekend. to see the beauty and life that is california. but instead we'll be in his hometown at his mother's funeral.

don't worry . . . your comments mean a million to me, and if you feel the need to express your [insert expression here] that's ok. but i'm ok. my grandma lived an extrodinary life. she was a good woman. a good wife, mom, and especially grandma. she LOVED being a grandma. and her cooking showed that for sure. but i'm a blessed person to have had such an amazing person to have been a huge part in my life. i accredit any goodwill that i have on behalf of my upbringing and Gramma Blackwell had a role in it as much as anybody.

So sadness, yes. But happiness too that she's not suffering any more. These, plus many other feelings create a tornado of emotions inside your heard. One chaotic mess of confusion.

So . . . love your family. Did you read that? LOVE YOUR FAMILY. Because . you'll miss 'em when they're gone. I promise.

Goodnight.