This is really kind of an oddball day.
I could go out and do my usual gym thing. Or, I could see Us. Or I could go to Greenwood and spend money I don’t have. Or… or…
But, I kind of choose not to do anything today except keep up with my class, of course. Since it’s Monday, that’s pretty much on autopilot.
I knew when I woke up yesterday that this was going to be a ‘nothing’ day. Well, nothing isn’t exactly the correct term. Every day is a something day. This is just a different something day then what I push myself through.
How can I be a writer if I always make myself tired or distracted to write, right?
– Just got a course offering for next term. Yay. Another ENG102, but at least the co-teach isn’t Dr. S. Maybe this other person will actually be human.
Maybe I’ll actually clean up my room or something. My room is a poorly organized mess. But creativity comes from chaos, right? Least, that’s what I used to tell my mom when I was growing up. Which is really kind of funny, in a way. At the Florida house, I wouldn’t tolerate this type of disorganization.
Big difference between what I do and what I own I guess.
… Not that I own anything. Right now, I probably own less than what I have in my entire adult life.
So, just hanging out today. Weird.
For some reason, I’ve been thinking about who would come to my funeral. No, no, no… it’s not morbid or anything like that. I’m definitely not thinking about self-harm. Besides, even if I was, I wouldn’t tell anyone anyway.
There have been these really lengthy obituaries in the local paper. It’s like the family hired someone to take the decease’s normal life and glorify it into a Beowulf epic. Suzie Sunland slipped from this life by…
Slipped from this life?
What happened to poor Suzie? Did she slip on a banana?
So, who would attend…
Immediate family, of course, providing they’re not upset with me.
Maybe some Pokemon Go players. They may not know my name or complete name, but they know my face well enough. A couple might show up, especially if they’re downtown playing anyway.
Dad’s side of the family is pretty absent. Absent I mean dead already. I think I have one or two cousins floating around, but we don’t stay in contact. One cousin probably doesn’t know that he’s a cousin or knows my name. That’s okay. I vaguely know his name and that’s probably not right.
The other cousin and I are estranged. Long story. Short version – he kept sending me all kinds of crap and my computer picked up a virus that pretty much killed my computer for a couple of weeks. – This was way before I started to invest in a heavy duty virus protection program.
I asked him to stop. Email. Text. Just don’t forward me crap… but he kept forwarding me crap and that was it. I set up a boundary and he violated it.
The last time I saw him was at the funeral of my aunt who was his mom. I’ll probably never see him again and I’m okay with that.
What’s kind of funny is that dad’s side knew this was coming – that, at one point, they all be gone. Growing up, family reunions used to be a big annual deal. The elders would rent out this mini-resort that had a pool, pool table, and an open bar. The last couple had big screen TVs… which was unheard of back then. Course, I was pre-teen then, but that didn’t stop me from getting in the pool.
I think dad enjoyed it. He was pretty much the patriarch. These were people he didn’t know growing up because of various reason. He liked the feel of being the ‘big man’ and everyone treated him as such.
The thing about dad’s side is that everyone was old. There were women who were related to me somehow in some way. They couldn’t stand well but had huge diamonds and other gems encrusting their knuckles. I was amazed at how sparkly they were and assured they were real.
– Women of that stature, I was told, didn’t sully themselves with fakes.
Which is kind of odd now since it’s pretty rare to find a jewelry store that actually has real gems. Lab created is the new natural.
I picked up on a little of that. I tend not to wear jewelry, but when I do it tends not to be gems. The few gems that I do own are real and very small. =)
But that’s okay. Big gems are a bit gaudy anyway and can be mistaken as fake. Small gems, not so much.
At some point, some of the elders died. I specifically remember attending this one lady’s funeral. I didn’t know who she was to me, but she called me Stella – dad’s mom’s name. She didn’t know me either, but that was okay. I also felt kind of honored about being mistaken for my grandmother who I never met. Stella had died when my dad was five, you see. Burned to death in a long-ago January from a wood stove accident.
After that year that the elders died, the reunions stopped. I don’t know if it was because more died that I wasn’t aware of or if the ones who paid for the resort.
Either way, dad’s side fell apart.
Some of mom’s family may attend my funeral, but definitely not because I want them too. Like jackals, they come out of the shadows when there are people to be taken advantage of.
– The last time this happened is when my dad died. A couple of aunts and an uncle came out of their termite-infested houses to ‘take care’ of my mom. Their care ended up in the disappearance of around ten thousand dollars and, eventually, the deep distrust of her side of the family. – Thank goodness.
I still blame myself for not being here to stop that. I should have as I have always felt that it was my duty being the oldest child. I’ll probably always harbor that guilt.
I’ve always know mom’s family was like that. Not everyone, of course, but a good number of them. When uncles jimmy the garage door to steel cheap silverware, there’s a problem. Silverware and any money they could find – seriously. Not canned food. Not stuff from the freezer. Nothing direct that they would need to feed themselves, which might be vaguely understandable. I’m sure mom would have provided what food she could to them during hard times.
But stealing silverware and money when we lived in the house with the dragon in the basement and every house since then, including this one.
Of course, it was to fund drug and alcohol habits. There’s little else for them.
If I come off a little bitter, you’re right.
There’s nothing quite like trusting family and being betrayed.
Again, a couple would come sniffing around my body. But, this time, my brother and sister are prepared to deal with them – I hope.
Hum… I suppose some of Jason’s family might appear, but that’d be unlikely if I’m in Indiana. Hopefully, one brother, if not both, would come to support Jason. But, I don’t know. Nothing is ever simple.
If I am buried, I always thought it’d be in Indiana. There’s this graveyard where my big brother and big sister are buried as well as dad’s first wife. Kill-a-dee lives there and some deer. There’s a wood close by. The last time I was there, wildflowers profusely bloom on a hill. There’s also a pre-paid grave. I thought that’d save some time and money.
Course, I’ve never been there in the winter. Winter and I definitely don’t get along, but winter wouldn’t be a bother then, would it?
I don’t consider these types of thoughts grim as some might.
Dead is part of life. To wonder about one is to wonder about the other.
We’re alive for just a short time, but dead for a long time – unless certain religion theories are true.
It’s a good thing a person’s life wealth isn’t defined by the people who come to a funeral. I’d be next to broke. No relatives. No children. No grandchildren. Not even a footnote in the history book. Just maybe a couple of lookie-loos who I raid with.
But, that’s okay. I’d rather be missed – but just a little.
I’d be one of those nameless faceless ancestors people pray to before going into battle.
A name for a distant relative to find when she explores the family history a hundred years from now.
That’s okay. It’s always okay.
It’s going to have to be.
after thoughts 