So, today was my grandma's funeral. To be honest, the funeral itself hit me a lot harder than I expected. I didn't really have any clear "happy" memories with my grandma because as far back as I remember, she was sick or was physically handicapped. I remember being woken up from her banging around with her walker in the middle of the night looking for the bathroom. I remember her watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy every night (and I think I probably owe my good spelling to her because of that). I still don't drink out of some glasses we have and use some spoons we have because when I was little I would habitually avoid the ones she used because I thought her eating was kind of gross and I've always been a little germaphobic.
Today after the funeral, I think I finally realized why people drink after the loss of a loved one. Not to excuse it because they're just turning from one crippling vice to another, but if I, who was not close with my grandmother at all, got teary-eyed and choked up inside at her funeral, I can only imagine how much worse it would be to lose a wife or a husband or a child. It makes me wonder if all the ordeal to find a mate is worth it when one of you is going to have to outlive and bury the other one. Death is the outcome we all have to face. That sucks. I'm tired and it's been a long two days, so I'll stop here and maybe ponder another day.
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