Warning: Depressing post ahead
This morning at breakfast my mother told me that her brother committed suicide yesterday. She waited until this morning, instead of telling me last night when I got home; I assume it's because she thought it would make it hard for me to sleep and I got home rather late (she was up reading - but that's not that unusual). I appreciate the consideration, but at the same time I wish someone had called me and let me know. I feel guilty that I was out having fun with Brian while the rest of my family was struggling with this.
My grandfather says he's not going to the funeral, because Grandma won't be able to travel and he wants to stay and take care of her (I'm sure there's more to it than that). My parents will be going, but the rest of my immediate family will not, because we can't afford it. (My uncle lived in Colorado.)
So far, I'm not too sure of my feelings yet. I know I'm angry, but that's about it so far. He'd headed down this path of ego and stubbornness long ago and I've wanted to shake him and tell him to grow up several times, but it wouldn't have done any good. For a while he seemed to be doing better - he'd lost weight, he was going back to school and trying to get his life back together. Apparently that wasn't working out so well.
I guess I'm going to need lots of hugs and patience this week.