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sad thoughts on a beautiful evening.
Apr. 17th, 2024 07:19 pmmiss my dad. and mom. and my mom's parents, not them personally, i never really knew them (and dad's parents were dead before i was born), but i miss having grandparents - a place to go that seemed safe and intelligent, if a little cold and distant and strict.
grieving my relationship with my brother. my last living relative.
none of my parents or mom's parents ever had any kind of funeral. watching the big lebowski the other night kind of brought these feelings back up. since the ashes in the coffee can scene was very similar to what my dad's ash scattering was like - his widow (his second wife, not my mom), stoned off her ass and talking more about her dead cats than my dad.
i was 26, i didn't know how to handle it or what to do. i tried to put her at ease, but she just sobbed and sobbed over her cats.
that's how i imagine my ash scattering to look too, if anyone bothers to do anything at all. i guess it doesn't matter.
but it does make me feel lost and alone. uncared for and very much like i don't matter, never did, and never could.
i told josh recently, that if something happened to me and he was wondering what to do, a memorial bench in a park would be totally fine, i don't need a grave stone or to be in a cemetery or anything. i don't really care what park. he said, "and scatter your ashes on Dog [Mountain]"? i said sure.
i don't really hike dog so much because it's my favorite place to be or anything. it's just a really good workout. i hike it to be able to be strong enough to hike other places. it's for training. but i am there the most, of all my hiking spots, i know it like the back of my hand, and i do love it. the old trail, especially. i love the feeling of accomplishment of getting to the top.
still not drinking.
or doing any other drugs. other than the very occasional magical fungus type.
not really interested in cocktails with timo anymore. i'm tired of chasing him.
not interested in a margarita in squamish. i can climb a mountain without the promise of tequila at the top, i already know this about myself.
just not sure how to get through a day of existence without my heart collapsing in on itself in grief.
grieving my relationship with my brother. my last living relative.
none of my parents or mom's parents ever had any kind of funeral. watching the big lebowski the other night kind of brought these feelings back up. since the ashes in the coffee can scene was very similar to what my dad's ash scattering was like - his widow (his second wife, not my mom), stoned off her ass and talking more about her dead cats than my dad.
i was 26, i didn't know how to handle it or what to do. i tried to put her at ease, but she just sobbed and sobbed over her cats.
that's how i imagine my ash scattering to look too, if anyone bothers to do anything at all. i guess it doesn't matter.
but it does make me feel lost and alone. uncared for and very much like i don't matter, never did, and never could.
i told josh recently, that if something happened to me and he was wondering what to do, a memorial bench in a park would be totally fine, i don't need a grave stone or to be in a cemetery or anything. i don't really care what park. he said, "and scatter your ashes on Dog [Mountain]"? i said sure.
i don't really hike dog so much because it's my favorite place to be or anything. it's just a really good workout. i hike it to be able to be strong enough to hike other places. it's for training. but i am there the most, of all my hiking spots, i know it like the back of my hand, and i do love it. the old trail, especially. i love the feeling of accomplishment of getting to the top.
still not drinking.
or doing any other drugs. other than the very occasional magical fungus type.
not really interested in cocktails with timo anymore. i'm tired of chasing him.
not interested in a margarita in squamish. i can climb a mountain without the promise of tequila at the top, i already know this about myself.
just not sure how to get through a day of existence without my heart collapsing in on itself in grief.
