The Geej was eulogized and buried today.
She left kind of a mess behind- her three surviving children, despite their best efforts to the contrary, were forced (both by her lack of forsight and their own pride) to stand toe to toe more often today, than hand in hand or shoulder to shoulder. I'm not sure I've ever had more conflicting feelings about things that are supposed to be straightforward.
I mostly ache for my dad. The last 5 months in caring for my grandmother, you would think he might have gained the certainty of knowing that she (and his siblings) loved and respected him. But he is filled with self-doubt and worry... that he didn't do enough; that he wasn't good enough; that his best efforts were met with suspicion about his intentions.
I wonder why it has to unfold like this. Dad's got his daughters' love and respect, his wife's whole heart, but today, he wanted a mother who prioritized the words, "Thank you" and "I love you." A father who said, "I'm proud of you." And a brother or sister who would stand up and said, "You did an amazing job. No one could have done more than you did..."
Sometimes we ask too much of our families.
It's been a long, hard day.
A day made easier by the existence of cousins.
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