Excuses, Excuses

So I could start this out by listing all the ways in which I've been too busy to sit down for an hour and type something out... but I haven't been busy (not too much, anyway). Truth of the matter is, I frequently avoid doing things I like *brace yourself: cliche ahead!* for fear of failing.

Anyhow, I've writing now. Lots of entry-worthy stuff has happened in the last month (is it narcissistic to think anything that happens in my life is worthy of the internet though?).

Lately I've been struck by a longing to see my (last surviving) grandparent. My paternal grandmother is the last of my grandparents alive, and she has terminal cancer. My dad-- who had not seen his mother in over 15 years-- recently came back from seeing her.

I was never close to any of my grandparents. I don't talk to my grandmother (at ALL). In fact, I'm having trouble remembering her name right now.

When my maternal grandmother passed away several years ago, I was mostly worried about my mother, and how she was dealing with it. I didn't grieve myself, because I never knew my grandmother.

But now, I can't help but feel like that is a loss I will not be able to recover. Ever.

I've come to understand my parents more as I've grown in recent years, and have come to know more about myself in the process.


But I feel that not knowing my grandparents means that there will always be something missing from my understanding of my own parents, and their lives.

Maybe that cannot be helped, however. After all, it's hard to ever completely know another person.

I still can't shake off the feeling that I'm missing out on something big.