Everything else that demands to be felt.

Spent most of the weekend sleeping my plans away. I wish it had been dreamless. Although I’ve had worse dreams. I suppose the dreams were a respite. Maybe I can thank the couple of drinks I had, or god. The God I should capitalize. Sorry.

My grandma is at the end of her life, so I allowed myself myself one drink each evening this weekend. I am taking the next three days off of work. So yes, you heard it here, she is dying. I am not there by her side or anyone’s. I am, perhaps in a cowardly way, afraid to be there or anywhere outside myself. I am afraid to fall apart in mixed company. Afraid of extreme feeling, but of course I am feeling it all anyway. Still, I do not know that being physically close to my family would help me or them. I am keeping in close electronic contact. Daily, hourly. I am getting all info in real time. My mom flew up to Pittsburgh. Miles got sick fresh off the airplane. Stomach virus. He’s mostly over it now.

I closed my eyes earlier. I saw the last picture I had of my grandparents. Grandpa kissing grandma softly. With a sort of pride. Pure loyalty. I do not know if she knows me. If “Caitlin” is more a brittle sound to her. If it is a fair haired toddler’s bowl haircut, Christmas cookies, a teen that scraped by with sheer angry will, books, despite failures, because of a spirit that ultimately chose to. She knew that I got published. That may be her last memory of me. She knew I was happy then; I can be at peace with that. That memory, like all the rest, is probably gone now. She will know it all soon. She will see God himself. The chorus of heaven. She will see her parents again. Everyone she loved who went before her. My mom said it rained and rained the day she flew in. Rain is everywhere, sheets across the country, whatever that means or doesn’t.

Spring forward. One hour never happened today. A time game we created. It has always seemed purposeless. I skipped all meaningful activities today. Heartache. I did not participate in the world. It may have rained again today, I am not sure. I am not sure of what happened in the world beyond fog, war, feeding the cats, sleep, Uber Eats, drinking gsome water, some TV for company and sound.

I wish Friday never happened. Friday was a terrible mixed-up day. I said all the wrong things. At least it felt that way. A cursed verbal spectacle, doomed from the first sentence. I couldn’t help it. I felt as if I couldn’t even exhale properly. It was terrible. Every step a fumble, even though they were all well meaning ones, although frightened and spent. And Grandma’s impending death the drumbeat chorous, me the only one hearing it. I have decided to go on FMLA. I am proud of myself. I hate to lose income, but it is for the best. Save love, heart, heal brain, tend to hurting soul. I am not wrong. I am allowed to be sad over a sad thing.

Unrelated but sometimes when I fail, when I hear that word in reference to myself, I worry that I am not good. Or hear any judgmental word in reference to myself. I have thin skin. I have been misunderstood. And sure, I have objectively failed I suppose. Yet not all of these judgments have been made by people who were necessarily in a place to “throw stones”, if you get my drift. Still, the stones hit me. They do not all bounce off. I am tired of hurting. So I must step away for now. I love what I know is good in me enough to step away. I recognize my humanity enough to know I deserve grace, like anyone else. It’s not like I’ve committed murder. Or children molestation. Or even run over a squirrel…. for christs sake.

In the midst of death I am in the rest of my life. And I must go on. Embarrassments and all.

Who was it that said that pain demands to be felt? John Green? Pretty sure. Like cancer - and love? Yeah. And everything else? That too.