So, my grandfather has about a week left to live according to the doctors. He has fooled them before, but from what my dad says, this one is pretty accurate. My grandmother is being a total idiot, saying she can give him all the care he needs. She took him out of the hospital a little while ago, so it is no wonder he is getting worse. But, he agreed to it, and they are both of “sound mind”, so the doctors couldn’t say a word. She basically brought him home to die. The whole thing got me thinking, because this is the first time I have really been faced with death in my family. My other grandparents had already passed away before I was born, and no one else in my family has ever been this bad off. There was the whole thing with my dad and cancer last year, but somehow I knew that things would be ok with that. What disturbs me is the fact that I am not really shaken by the idea. I don’t know if it is because my grandfather and I weren’t very close, or am I just apathetic? I can’t really tell. When I had to go to the funeral home with my dad to set things up in case his surgery didn’t go well, I was afraid, yes, but mostly I was unaffected by watching my dad make plans for his own death. I guess people deal with things in lots of different ways, but how selfish am I that something bad could happen, and all I am worried about is the fact that I really don’t feel anything. Sometimes life is too complicated for me to understand.
In other news, I have a really bad headache right now, which is putting me in this really great mood to go to lab in a few minutes. I took yesterday off to try and catchup on some work, and ended up getting nothing done. I spent a bit of money on tires for the bike, and then realized the day was completely gone. Strangely enough, I am surrounded by my friends and family, but I feel completely lonely. I hate this feeling, like the purpose of my life has yet to be determined. I guess I am the type of person who defines myself not by what the world sees, what I have accomplished, or what I have yet to do, but by my relationships. Not strictly personal relationships, but just people I know and things of that nature. But when you are working to create a life, and don’t have anyone to share it with, it seems like you are working for nothing. Normally it doesn’t bother me, but like I said, I have been doing a great deal of inward thinking about who I am. I guess I have a major fear of ending up alone for the rest of my life. Why does this matter? Like I said, what is the purpose of building a life if you have no one to share it with?
So, anyway, points to ponder from my ramblings: Does death matter, and how should you feel? How is life defined in your eyes?
