life.

Granny was gone at 9:05 yesterday morning.  Sweet Sheila leaves behind four grown children, and a gaggle of grandchildren, plus one great-grandchild; my niece, Kianna.  And one husband.  One sad, grumpy, unintentionally hilarious husband.

All these old photos have surfaced on Facebook of Sheila’s life.  She was a gorgeous girl.  A model, waifishly thin in that normal 50’s sort of way.  Victory curls and cigarettes and full skirts.  Pictures of history. 

Keith and I have decided in lieu of favours at the wedding to give a donation to a cancer charity.  We’re just choosing one now.

When you think about all this – how she was diagnosed ten short days before she died, how she was absolutely fine at Christmas, how we all planned on her being at the wedding, the rehearsal dinner, the family reunion in September… it makes me stop and think.  Who gives a shit what we feed people at our wedding?  Who cares that my family is being shit to me and I want to quit working for them?  Really I should just to save the bond we have to have for the rest of our lives.  But who knows when that could end?  I mean, what if I had ten days to live?  I certainly wouldn’t want to spend it angry with my aunt and uncle, no matter how much I disagree with their management style or general how they choose to be in life.

I want pictures and memories and to be surrounded by loved ones.  I don’t want to waste time on anger and hate.

I’ll finish this project I’m working on and then perhaps write up a job description because Lord knows they won’t.  I’ll hand over my laptop and wash my hands and walk away.  I feel good about this, actually.  It feels right.

I wish love and family to all of you.