Mum was just telling me the story of grandma's death, which i never knew. I was in the waiting room 4 feet away for the whole week leading up to it, but I was never told anything about it, really. Grandma died in August 1996. She was in hospital, at the old Wellesley, in the ICU, for surgery to remove scar tissue caused by Crohn's disease. She made it through the 24-hr. danger zone, and everyone thought she was going to be ok after that, but she had a massive heart attack after and died. I never knew that. I didn't get to see her from the moment she went in to hospital, a few days before. I never got to say goodbye. Not sure I even wanted to- I didn't really know her all that well, despite the fact she raised me and lived in my house for 2 years. She was just the other half of Granddad. I've always been a Daddy's girl.
I was calm for the whole funeral, the whole affair, everything. I don't think I even cried, I'm not sure if it was shock or blankness. Numbness, maybe. But I wish I'd known her better.
Daddy was talking to Granny on the phone yesterday. Apparently, cousin jacob (of whom I will post a pic when I can, and who, for the record, looks exactly like harry potter SHOULD) was being shown around various schools so he could pick an elementary (he's 9ish). He was walking down a hall by himself looking for a loo and went up to a teacher to ask where one was. The teacher, absolutely flabberghasted, put a hand down and lifted up his bangs to check for a scar. :)
I found one of my favourite poems from highschool:
Apollo through the heavens rode
In glinting gold attire;
His car was bright with chrysolite,
His horses snorted fire.
He held them to their frantic course
Across the blazing sky.
His darling son was Phaethon,
Who begged to have a try.
"The chargers are ambrosia-fed
They barely brook control;
On high beware the Crab, the Bear,
The Serpent round the Pole;
Against the Archer and the Bull
Thy form is all unsteeled!"
But Phaethon could lay it on;
Apollo had to yield.
Out of the purple doors of dawn
Phaethon drove the horses;
They felt his hand could not command.
They left their wonted courses.
And from the chariot Phaethon
Plunged like a falling star-
And so, my boy, no, no, my boy,
You cannot take the car.
--Morris Bishop
Readin'
Listenin' to
Thinkin' about
Most recently I was 
