Somehow I stumbled across this eulogy for my grandfather in my email drafts tonight, and I find myself regretting that I didn’t find a larger audience for it a while back, so I feel like I should share it. The week my grandfather died, I was heading to Europe for the first time in ten years. I chose to continue with my plans, instead of going home for his funeral. Because he was already gone. Because I think it’s what…
I’m Home. I’m Home because my mom is beginning to die. I’m home for 12 days and two are over and all we did is eat and sleep, and smoke and talk. And 2 out of 12 days are gone already. And maybe that’s all that’s left. My mom already died once, or maybe more times than that. Taken by peculiarity and random, inexplicable choices; that left me, and us all, reeling in chaos; questioning our own grasp on reality…