Bye Aunty Freda in Vulnerability

  • July 13, 2016, 11:28 a.m.
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I had a message from my mum on facebook informing me that my great Aunt has carked it.
I barely knew her. I can’t even remember the last time I saw her. It must have been when I was a kid, surely.
She was known as ‘Aunty Freda’ to everyone, despite being my dad’s aunty. I honestly don’t even remember what she looked like, it’s been that long. And now she’s gone.
Mum said that if I wanted to go to the funeral to hit my older brother up, as he is making the trip to Toowoomba for it. He’s older than me, he obviously knew her a bit better than I did.
At first I was like, “I barely knew her, should I bother going to her funeral?” I mean, I swear I haven’t seen her in like twenty years. She’s never been at family events that I can recall.
Anyway, the funeral is next Tuesday in Toowoomba. I have Tuesdays off. There’s really no reason why I shouldn’t go along. I don’t really want to go. I shouldn’t feel like I should feel obliged to go, you know? Mum’s always been the organizer though, getting everyone in the one place.
It’ll be nice to catch up with my brother again I suppose, even though he lives in the same city as me ^rolls eyes^.

My grandma is handling it really bad, mum says. She’s now the only one left out of 8 girls and 1 boy in her family. Well, no wonder since she’s the last one standing. She’s something like 86 or 87 years old herself. She’s very healthy, but it makes you think how much longer we have. She still doesn’t know I’m gay. Dad wants me to let her take that to her grave. He hasn’t actually said that, but I know. When I first came out (14 years ago now) they told me, “Don’t ever let your grandma find out!”
Doesn’t bother me if she knows or not. That’s my parent’s problem. It does sadden me a little that she’ll never know who I truly was, but hey, they’ve made their bed.

I’ve had death on my mind a lot lately. Well, not a lot. I periodically think about it. I always assume death would be something like the day before I was conceived. Nothingness. I certainly don’t remember coming out of the womb or being a baby. I think the light people see is the body shutting down. Who knows. I could come back as a caterpillar.
It makes me incredibly sad that we all go one day. The memories are what will make it sad.
I think about where I might be when I’m on my death-bed. If anyone will be around or if I’ll be alone.
My grandma with with my great aunt when she passed today, so she mustn’t have been well.
They say that no-one dies of old age. Rather that something eventually ‘gets’ us. , a disease, immune system gives up, It makes sense I suppose.

I also learned today that my city has a ‘100-club’ and today was the day they celebrated our citizens whom are 100 years old or over. Apparently we’re the only city in the world to have this club, and it’s been around for 26 years or so. I thought that was pretty cool.
They asked one lady whom is 100 years old what her secret to a long life is, and she spoke so eloquently. You know how people that old sometimes struggle with their speech a little? Not her at all, she was healthy, right out with it.
Her answer was that she played sport her entire life.
I think there’s something in that.


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