My paternal grandmother died this morning at 9:44 AM, CST. She was my last surviving grandparent, having lived into her 90s and outlasted her cohort by several decades.
We were not close. Despite the fact that I was her oldest grandchild, I saw her a total of perhaps six times in my entire life, and one of those was when I got married the first time. For reasons that are both complicated and simple.
I think of my father, and the complex mix of feelings he is certainly experiencing. I talked to him today for a bit.
I think of my own mortality, and the increasing challenges of age. Every new insult, lump, and twinge analyzed, considered. The question "is this how it is from now on?" lingers longer and longer. Most of the time, it will be fine. Probably. Then not.
All grandparents gone. A whole generation down. My parents are in their 70s and fortunately both in good health (knock, knock).
I wonder how much time I have left myself.. And how much of that will be enjoyable, between global warming, global dumbing, and personal infirmity. I hope it's enough, and I hope that I am wise enough to balance that time between living, enjoying living, and planning for the future.
I am still alive. I am OK. I wrote a new song today.
How are you doing?