riotheclown (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riotheclown) wrote2014-07-03 08:21 am
riotheclown) wrote2014-07-03 08:21 am
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Went to a funeral last night.
Mrs. Gabot died. She and her husband were neighbours who G.D. liked to visit. "They bicker just like you and I do!"
I can't tell you what it did for me to hear that.
Still, I liked the daughters though I hardly knew them. I was walking home with my bundle buggy and someone yelled from their car "How's your mom?" It was Liz one of the daughters. She told me that her mom was in care at the local home now that her health had gotten too difficult to manage. I`ll take you and G.D. to see her sometime, it`s really nice!
I told her it was good that she was there to help. This is something that I rarely have heard from people over the years. People who are not from cultures that expect you to do this don`t really get anyone doing it. It is assumed you can`t do anything else, have mental problems or are after the house or inheritance. I shuddered to learn from family that this was the picture g.d. was painting of me. This disclosure has gone a long way to making me realize that I have to get out of here, get her some capable professional care...but that is another story. I said, It`s stressful. people don`t realize.
She told me, well I have found I am drinking a lot more beer. I'm putting on weight. So I laughed. Like I said, I like her. So other than seeing Liz and giving her my condolences I had no interest in going but G.D. arranged for her friend to drive us. Funerals are weird these days. It was a big room with a coffin with a body in it at one end and a huge bunch of loud people at another; People I will never know, who probably have no interest in knowing me either, talking about their cottages and their kids: A sort of ``lets dress death up and then try to ignore it`` situation.
There must be a cheaper and more pleasant way to achieve this. Oh I got it! Just continue the same as always...
I can't tell you what it did for me to hear that.
Still, I liked the daughters though I hardly knew them. I was walking home with my bundle buggy and someone yelled from their car "How's your mom?" It was Liz one of the daughters. She told me that her mom was in care at the local home now that her health had gotten too difficult to manage. I`ll take you and G.D. to see her sometime, it`s really nice!
I told her it was good that she was there to help. This is something that I rarely have heard from people over the years. People who are not from cultures that expect you to do this don`t really get anyone doing it. It is assumed you can`t do anything else, have mental problems or are after the house or inheritance. I shuddered to learn from family that this was the picture g.d. was painting of me. This disclosure has gone a long way to making me realize that I have to get out of here, get her some capable professional care...but that is another story. I said, It`s stressful. people don`t realize.
She told me, well I have found I am drinking a lot more beer. I'm putting on weight. So I laughed. Like I said, I like her. So other than seeing Liz and giving her my condolences I had no interest in going but G.D. arranged for her friend to drive us. Funerals are weird these days. It was a big room with a coffin with a body in it at one end and a huge bunch of loud people at another; People I will never know, who probably have no interest in knowing me either, talking about their cottages and their kids: A sort of ``lets dress death up and then try to ignore it`` situation.
There must be a cheaper and more pleasant way to achieve this. Oh I got it! Just continue the same as always...