Strings

I didn't post last night because I was too emotionally strung.  I had to take my roommate to the doctor because he has some evil upper respiratory infection.  That doesn't seem like such a big deal, but this is a hard time of year for me.  Two years ago this week, my grandmother died so my nerves are somewhat frazzled when people around me fall ill.

I lost my grandmother 18 months after I lost my mom.  Gramma's death was a slow decline and we knew it was happening, but still, in the moment, shocking.  My mom's death was sudden and unexpected. In some ways, I'm not sure I've come to terms with either event yet. I know it will take time.

Still, yesterday I found myself sitting in the parking lot, waiting for my roommate to get the help he needed.  I started thinking about how in life we are born with one family, but as the years pass, we add to that family, tying new bonds with people as strong as (or in some cases, stronger than) the ones we had from birth.  I have my blood relations, and I love them.  But when I say "family," I mean those people, and select others who I've chose as family.

When someone close to you dies, part of you feels orphaned and lost. I think that's because part of you is.  The relationship you had with this person is very much a part of who you are.....an extension, to be sure, but still tied to you.  When that person's life ends, that tie is severed.  You not only mourn the loved one, but you also mourn the death of the relationship.

My roommate has meds and is somewhat on the mend. The cats and I are keeping a watchful eye on him.  He is, after all, our person.  A large part of who we are as a very strange little family.