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Mar. 11th, 2014 08:42 am( Gaeilge )
Home again home again, jiggety jig.
I'm... not really sure what to say about that. I went home. I saw family, mother and sister and aunt and uncle and cousin. We talked, caught up, talked a lot about Grandpa. I got to see Mom's new house. Mom completely spoiled me with a new phone (my old dumbphone was falling the hell apart) and a thrifting trip, which apparently she really enjoys still. Which amused me. We saw Frozen!
It wasn't bad. But I don't really know how to talk about it. But after coming back and sleeping half the day away yesterday, I do feel rested and better. So that's good.
I also started reading Long Walk to Freedom on the way home, which was probably not the best idea for the flight home from visiting family because Grandpa died. Nice timing, self.
No, I kind of do know what I feel. Refreshed and rebooted. Still sad, still twitching every time I see a sobersrs Dicky Attenborough-looking man hurrying down the lane with a grave expression on his face, all pressed and dressed (Grandpa was a V Srs Economist, except when he wasn't), but by and large ready to take up things again and kind of singing Brand New Day. So that is good. I think coming home and being among people who had also lost Grandpa, and being a daughter again helped. Hell, probably so did being a big sister. (Although when the hell did my baby sister get to be twenty fucking four? I was all set to fuss and be stern over her boyfriend being 27 until I realized that's actually a SMALLER gap than me and the boy and what the fuck. Cognitive dissonance for the hilarity.)
Also in the category of good to be home: fucking properly black proper bootlaces of the right proper length that aren't broken. One airport, a shopping mall, and two shoe stores, and were there black bootlaces of the length I needed? No. No there were not.
Home again home again, jiggety jig.
I'm... not really sure what to say about that. I went home. I saw family, mother and sister and aunt and uncle and cousin. We talked, caught up, talked a lot about Grandpa. I got to see Mom's new house. Mom completely spoiled me with a new phone (my old dumbphone was falling the hell apart) and a thrifting trip, which apparently she really enjoys still. Which amused me. We saw Frozen!
It wasn't bad. But I don't really know how to talk about it. But after coming back and sleeping half the day away yesterday, I do feel rested and better. So that's good.
I also started reading Long Walk to Freedom on the way home, which was probably not the best idea for the flight home from visiting family because Grandpa died. Nice timing, self.
No, I kind of do know what I feel. Refreshed and rebooted. Still sad, still twitching every time I see a sobersrs Dicky Attenborough-looking man hurrying down the lane with a grave expression on his face, all pressed and dressed (Grandpa was a V Srs Economist, except when he wasn't), but by and large ready to take up things again and kind of singing Brand New Day. So that is good. I think coming home and being among people who had also lost Grandpa, and being a daughter again helped. Hell, probably so did being a big sister. (Although when the hell did my baby sister get to be twenty fucking four? I was all set to fuss and be stern over her boyfriend being 27 until I realized that's actually a SMALLER gap than me and the boy and what the fuck. Cognitive dissonance for the hilarity.)
Also in the category of good to be home: fucking properly black proper bootlaces of the right proper length that aren't broken. One airport, a shopping mall, and two shoe stores, and were there black bootlaces of the length I needed? No. No there were not.