Today I saw a tweet where someone talked about not getting to go to their grandmas funeral but doing a thing for it that they were proud of doing. I felt for them because losing family is pretty hard and not getting to be there for the funeral must've felt sad. I can relate to both, though for different circumstances on the losing a grandma and not being able to show for the funeral. It made me think about my grandma on mums side, she was one of my favorite people in the whole entire world and I liked spending time there. I liked being babysat by her and grandpa (mostly her, though, she was the one I interacted with). Sometimes I'd spent nights over there and take the bus to school from their place just because I could and I wanted to. It's been so long since she passed and her birthday would've been just days ago, now. I remember that we drove through the country for her because we knew she was dying and we knew her funeral would be few days after. I got to see her once before she died, then we spent just enough time to see her buried before we had to drive back home. I wish I could've done more of been there more, I still miss her so incredibly much. I got to be there for her funeral, I didn't get to be there for my uncles (my dads brother) a few years ago, because people were assholes and someone needed to watch the dog. I volunteered because my dad should get to be there, he needed mum for support and my brother knew our uncle better than I did. I still would've made the choice again for their sake, but it sucked that I couldn't go.
Thinking about grandmothers and thinking about losing them made me remember my grandma on dads side. She passed when I was a kid, I think I wasn't even in double digits at the time. But I remember that I used to spend time at hers with my cousin because both my dad and my cousins dad were her sons. I remember I used to envy my cousin because that grandma treated her like she was perfect and could have anything she wanted. The things she saw me want, she gave to her. And I never even realized that was happening. When she died, I felt awful because I didn't really feel sad. I'd force myself to cry because my cousin needed someone to relate to and talk to about her, and I thought I was the worst kind of person if I didn't cry. A couple years ago from now, long after it all, my mum revealed that she treated me like that because she was convinced I wasn't dads kid. I'm supposed to be upset because she was family, or rather related, and I feel bad for not being upset.
I guess I lose either way, but if it makes me a bad person to think that I would forever choose the one on mums side then I guess I'll be a bad person.
