I Love Helping Others
But...... I love helping others. From my misery story you can tell that I sought out people in distress for a long time, just so I could help them out!
This time though, I need some help/advice. My grandma died a couple of years ago. She had her 80th birthday party and mum, dad and my sister went down. I didn't, I was a student and at my overdraft limit, so couldn't afford the train. She died a few months later. I missed her life. Of course I afforded to go down when she died.
My girlfriend (love, really...) had a nan who was sick. She went to hospital, and they were worried about her. I forced her to go down. I went with her too, even to the hospital. She had her doubts, and wasn't sure she really wanted to go. I promised my nan (and my grandpa who was still alive at the time) I would never let that happen to anyone else I knew. Least of all my lover. And so it was.
Do unto those as you would have them do unto you.
My grandpa. He has been in a wheelchair for the last 17 years or so, confined to his 3rd floor flat. I have always been nervous around disabled people. I've always been able, rushing around everywhere trying to get far too much done. So, I don't know how to talk to them, what to ask about, what they do all day even. I was scared. Like so many others, I suffered from the human emotion of fear.
I promised my nan, and my grandpa that I wouldn't let that happen again. I was building up my courage. I wrote to him a few times after I hadn't written in years. Didn't know what to say, my life was in rack and ruin really. I worked in a widget factory as he called it - designing and producing things with NO knowledge of their function, ergonomics, design etc. and being forced to do so by management with no support.
Well, I think y'all know where this one's headed. He died recently, fell in the flat and was taken to hospital. I went to the flat to comfort Mum. She needed it, and I needed to see it. The chair. Without him in it. Facing the window of his bedroom. I'll never forget the feeling. It was like being hit over the head with a ba<x>seball bat from both front and back simultaneously.
So my bone of contention, the bane of my existence, the unsettling nerve of anti-peace in my life right now: I helped my girlfriend out. I made her go. She did not do the same for me. This is not spite, nor unforgivable etc. My problem is simply that I do not understand the context of this. Some aspects of death I understand. Some I know something of. This one, however, I cannot let be. There are things I am missing. Simple things I know, but missing none-the-less.
My lover said to me 'You have enough.' I didn't understand. She elaborated: 'You may not know all the little details of his life, but' and I finished 'I know who he was.'
Those are the little snippets of wisdom I need to hear. He knew from my letters that I would not visit him for some time. I believe he was fighting to see when I would pull out of the downward turn I was in. Perhaps he saw it in the writing. Perhaps. I don't know. I just, don't, know.
Thank you for reading.
D9
:*(
This time though, I need some help/advice. My grandma died a couple of years ago. She had her 80th birthday party and mum, dad and my sister went down. I didn't, I was a student and at my overdraft limit, so couldn't afford the train. She died a few months later. I missed her life. Of course I afforded to go down when she died.
My girlfriend (love, really...) had a nan who was sick. She went to hospital, and they were worried about her. I forced her to go down. I went with her too, even to the hospital. She had her doubts, and wasn't sure she really wanted to go. I promised my nan (and my grandpa who was still alive at the time) I would never let that happen to anyone else I knew. Least of all my lover. And so it was.
Do unto those as you would have them do unto you.
My grandpa. He has been in a wheelchair for the last 17 years or so, confined to his 3rd floor flat. I have always been nervous around disabled people. I've always been able, rushing around everywhere trying to get far too much done. So, I don't know how to talk to them, what to ask about, what they do all day even. I was scared. Like so many others, I suffered from the human emotion of fear.
I promised my nan, and my grandpa that I wouldn't let that happen again. I was building up my courage. I wrote to him a few times after I hadn't written in years. Didn't know what to say, my life was in rack and ruin really. I worked in a widget factory as he called it - designing and producing things with NO knowledge of their function, ergonomics, design etc. and being forced to do so by management with no support.
Well, I think y'all know where this one's headed. He died recently, fell in the flat and was taken to hospital. I went to the flat to comfort Mum. She needed it, and I needed to see it. The chair. Without him in it. Facing the window of his bedroom. I'll never forget the feeling. It was like being hit over the head with a ba<x>seball bat from both front and back simultaneously.
So my bone of contention, the bane of my existence, the unsettling nerve of anti-peace in my life right now: I helped my girlfriend out. I made her go. She did not do the same for me. This is not spite, nor unforgivable etc. My problem is simply that I do not understand the context of this. Some aspects of death I understand. Some I know something of. This one, however, I cannot let be. There are things I am missing. Simple things I know, but missing none-the-less.
My lover said to me 'You have enough.' I didn't understand. She elaborated: 'You may not know all the little details of his life, but' and I finished 'I know who he was.'
Those are the little snippets of wisdom I need to hear. He knew from my letters that I would not visit him for some time. I believe he was fighting to see when I would pull out of the downward turn I was in. Perhaps he saw it in the writing. Perhaps. I don't know. I just, don't, know.
Thank you for reading.
D9
:*(
36-40, M