All Gone in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

She passed away at 4:16 yesterday.

I’m very irritated by a great many things, but mostly because I don’t know what I’m feeling. The funny thing is, after I announced it on Facebook with the intention of not going back to Facebook for a few days, the comments were overwhelmed by people expressing different sentiments, but one specific one outweighed them all, “I know how important she is to you.” Apparently, you could have only met me for 10 days in New Orleans 7 years ago but still know that fact. It’s like the most basic truth about me.

Chuckie got back from Mozambique just hours before she passed, but he is horribly ill from his trip. Part of me wants to go spend time with him so that I too can be “Africa Sick”. I don’t even really know what that means because my thought processes are so non-functional right now.

I’ve dealt with death. Lots of death. I’ve even witnessed someone die right in front of me of a mortal wound. But this is the first time I’ve watched someone wither like a grape on the vine. It’s the most awful thing I’ve ever experienced in my life and I felt like I suddenly understood all these things that had just been right beyond my fingertips for years.

But all of that is gone.

Having to see my aunt and uncle again was like being doused with boiling water. I couldn’t imagine that this would be more excruciating, and I felt like I couldn’t really talk about it because everyone was already grieving about my grandmother. But now I have to see these people, smiling sharing words of comfort with me as if we’ve been close confidants for all these missing years. My aunt came up and said she was sorry and she hopes I’m feeling okay, and I just thought… “The fuck you do. The last time I saw you we were in a courtroom and you were begging the judge for my head on a pike!”

Whatever. They’re gone now.

But they’ll be back.

What am I going to do? My mother is insistently trying to comfort me. She is trying to force something between us and it’s just another layer of stress in this situation. The truth is, I don’t trust my mother or her judgment. My grandmother was my closest friend and confidant.

But she’s gone now.

So I’m going into isolation for a bit. I don’t know if I’ll be writing because I’m not sure if there’ll be anything to write about.