The End

So my uncle died. I knew that it was coming. I just didn't expect it so soon. I was tempted to link more info about him, but I forgot that he was a public figure in the city where he'd lived for years, and I'm aware that I have "haters" who hate read my blog. I don't understand claiming to hate me so much, then dedicating mental space to see how I'm living my life, but thanks for the readership, I guess?

Anyway, Uncle Tippy is gone. I definitely have thoughts on it. I spent the last 5 years being part of his care team. When I did my last cross country drive, I purposely placed it so that I could stop in his city to see him. A small part of me knew that the last time that I visited him would be the last time that I saw him. There have been a flood of emotions since he died. Obvious grief. Anger. Confusion. 

What I think stings the most is that it all just ties in to the loss of my cousin, Ali. When Ali died, I rejoiced slightly in knowing that he'd be reuniting with our cousin, Jarronn. And there's just a bit of happiness here with my uncle reuniting with Ali. But it just isn't the same thing. 

While the press is saying that my Uncle Tippy died from diabetes, there's no doubt in my mind that he died from a broken heart. . I don't think my uncle was able to live with the guilt of not fully recognizing at the time, the gem that his older son was and the emotions were eating him alive. He couldn't escape his feelings this time. He had to sit in it. And he didn't like it. And now he's gone.

I talked to my cousin's widow, not knowing that she was not aware of her father-in-law's passing a few hours prior. She was fine, until I mentioned that I felt he died from a broken heart. She began sobbing. She said that she'd felt the same way too. Obviously, I felt horrible for my uncle having to live with things playing out the way they did. It made me sad to think that my own father won't really value me until I'm dead. I honestly hope he lives to see me die first, just so he can know what it's like. Is it wrong for me to feel that way? Probably.

I told my cousin's widow how much I'm holding it all together on the surface, and I'm proud of that. No one outside of my immediate friends would know that I'm suffering. But I am. I told my cousin's widow that my uncle dying felt like an end of sorts. Not like the end of an era, but something like that. We all spent so much time enmeshed with one another. The good, the bad, the ugly. Even when Ali died, we were all still concerned about his father. We all knew that the uncle was hurting. But we didn't know it was this bad.

I guess the good is that us cousins, from all walks of life (the 4 of us) have grown closer since then. Being there when Ali died bonded us in a way that I don't think any of us expected. But we were all there. And now that my uncle is gone, my cousin's widow, my cousin in Louisiana, and myself will at some point descend on Denver so that we can support my cousin who has lost his father and his only sibling just three short months apart. This is just a hard tragedy to wrap your mind around. I guess the upcoming funeral will close out this era of my life and usher in something new. The second my insurance kicks in for my job, I plan to go see a therapist. I'll definitely need help learning and coping with my new normal.

On another note, I was inspired by some colors I saw at work the other day, and while I'm not sure I'll paint my current bedroom, I will definitely paint my writing nook. If I have to close out one chapter of my life, the least I can do is bring in some new colors and spruce up my writing area, to usher in another.

Monday was my first day at the new job. Hospice. Wow. I knew that the location of the job was in the absolute sticks, but I had no clue how much I'd enjoy the commute. I go against traffic, never having to slam on brakes during rush hour. There are literally horses and cows all in the area. I like it.

I've always had a strange relationship with death, I just never thought I'd be working with people who are literally dying. Outside of the location far outside of the city, I enjoy the slower pace of my current workplace. Unlike other jobs where the goal is to keep someone alive and healthy, with this position I am painfully aware that my patients here are definitely going to die. There's no crazy ass rush and no insane amounts of paperwork. I could definitely do this forever. I haven't met my clients yet, but I'm looking forward to it.

I was, however, shocked on Friday when as we were looking in on a client, and I looked up to see the coroner rolling out a dead body. I mean, the body was covered, but still. I just wasn't ready for that. I know that this is something that I will have to get used to. It took me back to watching my cousin being carried out after he passed. I almost described the scene right here, but 1) it's still kind of a tender subject for me and 2) I'd like to respect his privacy toward the end. He was always such a proud man.

That same evening, I talked to my cousin, Ali's brother, only to learn that his dad, my uncle isn't doing very well. I think my uncle is feeling a lot of guilt, coupled with his lack of independence, and I don't think he wants to live like this anymore. I know he doesn't. My cousin is currently faced with countless decisions regarding my uncle's care. All I could do is to remind him that I'm here to support him no matter what, but his father wouldn't want to live a life of complete dependence on others.

The same evening, I was out on the town and had several near car accidents. After the brain injuries caused by my last two accidents, I'm absolutely terrified of getting hit again. I have no idea what the long term implications will be for my last two concussions and I don't want to tempt fate. After my last near crash, my nerves were absolute shit. I actually ended up having a panic attack. Wild because that was my first panic attack in years. I cut my night short and went home.

The next day, my father said something pretty fucked up to me. Big shocker, right? That moment was when it occurred to me that I need to get to a therapist soon. I will always feel like both of my parents failed me so much. With things going well (like the book, and my money, and new job), I'm starting to feel... I don't know. Like I'm trying to hold the weight of it all together, but I'm ready to topple over already. I almost wish I could just go home and stay in bed and cry until it all makes sense. But I can't. But I'm tired.

My uncle will make 5 deaths of loved ones in as many years. I understand that death is a part of life. Even the job isn't too bad, because most of the patients are elderly and have lived a long life. Even my uncle. But what about Ali? What about Andrea? What about Pete? What about me?