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same_skyI seem to be on a bloggy downswing these days. I don't really have a good reason for it. I'm just.. out of things to say, I guess. Hopefully it'll pass. I'm just plugging along.. going to work and doing as little as I can get away with in the evenings. I'm tired.. think I'm low on iron, and I'd like to see my chiropractor. Work has been going pretty well, though, except now I'm kind of out of things to work on. My first little baby [program] is out in the big wide world now on its own, and that's kind of fun. Tomorrow is Friday (yay!) and that makes me all kinds of happy. Three-day weekend, here I come. I'm a little concerned, though, because I keep thinking of all kinds of things that I want to do this weekend, but if we try to do all of it, it's going to seriously cut into my doing-nothing time.
And here is where this entry takes a turn for the depressing... fair warning.
I found out last night that my great-aunt is dying. I don't know what to say without it sounding wrong. She's ready to die. She's been so sick for so long, and she's made her husband, against his wishes, promise to never take her to the hospital again. They said that she doesn't have a month left. But--I don't want her to. That's such a horribly, grossly inadequate thing to say. It's fascinating how little words mean in the face of death. I feel such dread in the pit of my stomach when I think of it, and I know that it's unfair on so many levels. The story goes that she flat-out said that she wanted people to pray for her to die, not live, and anything else was selfishness. And yet, this is the same woman that sang in church once and sent me running to the bathroom in tears because I could hear my granny's voice in hers. It's just so sad, and I know that it's so much worse for her family, and yet.. I don't even know what I'm trying to say.
It also makes me feel like re-evaulating life, the universe, and everything. I talk about eating better, exercising more, but I never do it. Diabetes runs strong in my family. My granny died pretty young, and now her sister is dying of approximately the same things at just a little bit older than she was. My mother has it, my aunt has it, my grandfather has it. How much proof do I need that it's not good enough to start worrying about your health when you reach middle-age? Worry soon; worry often. Isn't that my motto with everything else? Why can't I take that in other parts of my life where it would actually be helpful for once?
So anyway, that's what's new with me. It seems like bedtime gets earlier every single day. I'm so sleepy but I'm still like a two-year-old, fighting sleep. I'm silly like that.
And here is where this entry takes a turn for the depressing... fair warning.
I found out last night that my great-aunt is dying. I don't know what to say without it sounding wrong. She's ready to die. She's been so sick for so long, and she's made her husband, against his wishes, promise to never take her to the hospital again. They said that she doesn't have a month left. But--I don't want her to. That's such a horribly, grossly inadequate thing to say. It's fascinating how little words mean in the face of death. I feel such dread in the pit of my stomach when I think of it, and I know that it's unfair on so many levels. The story goes that she flat-out said that she wanted people to pray for her to die, not live, and anything else was selfishness. And yet, this is the same woman that sang in church once and sent me running to the bathroom in tears because I could hear my granny's voice in hers. It's just so sad, and I know that it's so much worse for her family, and yet.. I don't even know what I'm trying to say.
It also makes me feel like re-evaulating life, the universe, and everything. I talk about eating better, exercising more, but I never do it. Diabetes runs strong in my family. My granny died pretty young, and now her sister is dying of approximately the same things at just a little bit older than she was. My mother has it, my aunt has it, my grandfather has it. How much proof do I need that it's not good enough to start worrying about your health when you reach middle-age? Worry soon; worry often. Isn't that my motto with everything else? Why can't I take that in other parts of my life where it would actually be helpful for once?
So anyway, that's what's new with me. It seems like bedtime gets earlier every single day. I'm so sleepy but I'm still like a two-year-old, fighting sleep. I'm silly like that.
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Date: 2004-07-22 07:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 06:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-23 10:40 pm (UTC)Sorry to hear that sad news. Very sad :( The odd re-evaluation of life is not a bad thing. But maybe it's not so much a case of 'worry' but instead 'positive simple changes' so that you can lead the life you want and eat what you want and relax when you want to. Simple steps are the easiest.
And I understand the lapse in blogging. I've been a bit like that too but I've decided today is the day to post. Glad you did too :)