Cube with a blocked view.

Grandpa

Here I sit at the farm, tomorrow is the funeral for my last grandparent. Grandpa. He lived to be 88 and saw a lot in his time here. From farming with horses to farm equipment that'll drive itself down the field. He lived a good, long life and was ready to go, whether or not we were ready for him to go.

I watch my nephew struggle with the reality. "Great Grandpa's spirit goes to heaven tomorrow?" he asked tonight at dinner. Then told me and J that he missed us. You know he understands but he's still too young to really understand.

We sat tonight working on the eulogy. Such a hard exercise. What to say about a quiet, unobtrusive man? How to comment on his independence and love for his family? How do you get that into a short few paragraphs withought all 5 of us bawling around the table?

I'm still not feeling. I try to cry and know I've lost, but I don't feel. I don't feel a lot lately. I stare at others around me and wonder how they can not see that I'm not like them. It's weird. Just a shell. There's nothing anymore.

Just a shell.

posted by Erin @ 10:04 PM