01.14.04 - 11:59 pm

im 72 miles away. an hour of driving. im in a different world here. i dont have parents. i dont have an ex girlfriend. i dont have friends from highschool unless they live in corvallis. i might as well be in arizona still. i feel so distant. so removed from everything.

my grandmother died. but did she? i just saw her. a few weeks ago. she was at my house and i sat on her lap. she seemed fine then. we joked. we laughed. i rubbed her bony shoulders. she said some pretty funny and random things during thanksgiving. i just havent called in awhile, i think its about time i do that. last time the line was busy. ill probably get through this time and ill ask grandpa, hey, hows grandma. and hell be like, well, shes doing fine. and then hed yell off to the side, helen! helen get on the phone here, jordans on the phone. and i would smile because i would be able to hear grandmas faint voice somewhere off in the kitchen asking what? and he would raise his voice and repeat.

my grandma.

friday afternoon is the funeral. word has it, my grandma went to a funeral back in 1997 or so, and so thoroughly enjoyed how it went that she kept the pamphlet, and made notes on it. grandpa found it, and thats exactly how her funeral will go. she wanted to be cremated, this makes sense considering she would never want to be a hassle to anyone. the main reason she always tried to take care of herself. walk to the bathroom when she wasnt supposed to. try to get up stairs and out of cars by herself. my mother will be exactly like her.

my grandmothers tiny body is now....ash. seems barbaric. disgusting. my grandma, the person i could talk to, listen to, who had feelings and cried and thought about her hair and what clothes to put on. who sang in church, laughed at jokes and had been married for 57 years to the same man. a woman who grew up, had boyfriends, waited while her husband fought a war in the pacific and in europe. she had dreams and goals and aspirations. hopes for her family. dreams of grandchildren and great grandchildren.

this was my grandma.

it doesnt make sense to me that ill be going to see her on friday. but she wont be the grandma i know. id almost prefer a open casket. i wish i could have demanded it sooner. i never even got to see her. i didnt get to say anything to her. i didnt do anything i should have done. i havent done enough for my family. im stuck here in corvallis. im stuck here doing nothing while theyre mourning with out me, experiencing everything first hand because theyre so close. they can run their fingers through the sadness, through the emptyness and pain. and i can only, imagine it. i dont have anyone to feel it with. i dont see anyone down here hurting for my grandmothers death. i want so badly to cry. to just...crumple. i want so badly to not feel so guilty for having nothing to say. for not being able to show how i feel. i want sarah to realize how much i need her to check on me. to call me in the middle of the night asking if im ok. to send me something. to....want to me make me feel better. she doesnt get it. its not that important to her.

do you suppose i would come running? do you suppose id come at all?

i want dreams of my grandma. i want to have her come to me and have me say some things. i dont want this. i dont want her to be not here and me to be without her. i dont want it to be grandpas house. its supposed to be grandpa and grandmas house. its supposed to be my sisters and i sitting on her lap talking to her about things.

friday i hope i cry as much as im wanting to right now. i hope i break down. i hope i need to excuse myself. i hope im not alone. i hope i have someone whos crying just as hard with me. i hope my grandpa doesnt cry.

what am i going to say to him? what will i ever have to say to him after this? it just seems like nothing will ever matter. that everything will just lose...its relevancy.

i need me and my grandpa to go out and do something. for us to be together experiencing this from two different perspectives and yet from the same point of view.

my grandma said that shed always remember that her birthday was the day sophie died.

twenty six days later. i wish i would have known. i could have said something. i might have been able to stop it.

i might have.

.....if i would have known.