I am really too old to be having this particular malaise.

November 10, 2007 at 5:57 pm Leave a comment

I’m really not feeling it today, in general. I don’t want to do my homework, I don’t want to clean my apartment, and I don’t even particularly want to write this blog post. Blogging every day is harder than I thought it would be, and moreso when you’re feeling mopey and exanimate.

It really is too bad, too, because I started out the day on a pretty good foot. I got some mid-morning nookie, followed by an excellent lox and cream cheese bagel, and my husband bought me a copy of Bitch at The Newsstand along with his copies of Make and Cycle World.

But instead of blissing out with my feminist rag, my egg nog latte and my Cranberry Bliss Bar, I feel a malaise coming on.

I think it all started after the conversation I had with my mom this morning. My stepmother recently had an MRI that revealed she suffered a mild stroke. On top of her lupus and other neurological issues, this has me pretty worried about her. Compounded with all of the cancer ravaging the families and friends of my own friends, I’ve become overly fixated on mortality today, and it’s really harshed my mellow.

I have been lucky to get through life thus far without suffering the loss of somebody close to me. My father passed away two years ago, but the impact of his death was commensurate with his impact on my life. Because I barely knew him, what I felt wasn’t grief so much as confusion, over how I should feel or react, because I suppose you should feel sad when your father dies, and yet how are you supposed to feel loss when all the time you’ve spent with a person throughout your life amounts to less than a week? How do you feel grief over someone who couldn’t even be bothered to keep up the e-mail relationship he tried to strike up with you one summer? I did cry, but not for the death of my father; I mourned the death of a childish fantasy, that one day he would want to be in my life, and the choice would be mine for the first time.

One day, which approaches slowly as I get older, I know I’ll have to say goodbye to someone really important to me. I realize I am not special in that regard and, moreover, I realize how lucky I am that I have gotten this far without such a loss. At the same time, I wonder if that puts me at a disadvantage, because, as I get older, a life without the people I love in it becomes less imaginable. I suppose death doesn’t get any easier to endure with experience, but what would I know?


Entry filed under: death, family, life stuff.

I don’t have a real post in me tonight, so you get this. ROFL

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