Anxiety · Personal

Life Goes On

Back to it, it seems.

My Grandfathers funeral was actually a very tasteful affair – only around 18 of us, all family, and the man who ran the ceremony. He had a lot of nice things to say about my Grandfather and a lot about the man that I didn’t even know about.

I never knew how crafty he was with his hands, how he could come up with a logical solution to a problem in the blink of an eye, that he had a reputable career working with the CSIRO… and that he always offered help to those he loved.

One of my older cousins got up to speak about him, a side of him I never knew. When her mother left her husband my Grandfather became a father to them.

The the music started and my mother, bless her, started weeping. I nudged my brother to hold her hand, because I wasn’t sitting next to her, and then when it looked like she was close to losing her composure he wrapped his arm around her. I shuffled closer and held her hand, trying not to start crying like a baby.

I didn’t even know the rest of my family was upset until we left the chapel and I saw that each of them had red eyes.

The rest of the funeral was spent in a function room catching up with each other. I made the mistake of eating things I know I shouldn’t have, and as my brain fogged over I found it even harder to concentrate on whoever was speaking to me and block out the music and the other chatter at the same time.

It was nice to see the family – even though I hadn’t seen any of them for well over 10 years no one was unapproachable.

When I took my Grandmothers hand and looked into her eyes before we left she said to me, “and you are?”

I laughed on the inside, and smiled on the outside. I told her who I was, but I’m not sure she believed me… even though we had visited her the previous night. I don’t mind though, I can’t expect to have a close bond if I don’t make the effort to see my Grandparents more than once every couple of years.

Besides, as I said to my mother, she knows who I am (and who she is) on some level.

I think the next time I go on this sort of trip with my family I will get my own room, though. My mother ended up snoring all night and the only way I could fall asleep was with one of my earbuds in listening to the sound of rain/thunder.

Instead of feeling drained by the whole thing, instead of wanting to get home so I could spend some time alone (I was with my immediate family for 3 days) I actually didn’t need to re-cooperate. Being with my family was recharging in a way. It also goes to show that whatever my acupuncturist is teaching me to deal with anxiety and creating my own space in the world is working.

Tomorrow my ex, who is now also my business partner, and I are setting up a little stall in the local market to hopefully sell our new product. I will be there to sell books, and he will be doing the majority of the other stuff.

I notice when I get home a sense of wandering feet. I love my new place in my stomping grounds but I also itch to get out there and explore. I get a sort of excitement bubble up inside me at the prospect of living life and not being terrified of it.


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