My Grandmothers brother passed away from the same disease that killed her. When I got the news I was actually surprised at how hard it affected me. I was at work, and I burst into tears. I wasn’t even able to stop them as my boss looked on with this look that said, “oh shit, what do I do,” which is strange given the fact that I am indeed a crier.
Oh yes, I cry for a lot of things and quite often against my own will. I’m of the emotional variety that when faced with even the slightest pressure the tears will fall. When I feel I am in a confrontational situation, I cry. My emotions are overly sensitive and it truly is the one thing I hate the most about myself, because it shows my inability to hide my emotions.
Jim was one of the Uncles that was introduced later in my life where as my other uncles I often knew better because I saw them a few times a year, but Uncle Jim and Aunt Carol didn’t show up in my life until I was around 19-years-old when they purchased a home in Arizona and retired there. So when I burst into tears it took me back. But really, I was mourning the death of him, but also re-mourning the death of my grandmother.
I came back from Arizona somewhat different – I can’t truly say what exactly it was that made me different, but my views are slightly changed and I feel a little less hopeful. It’s sad to even say that, but I noticed it instantly at work, and then filtered into my daily life. Even more so than ever, I am beginning to loose the compassion I once had. I feel colder, harder and less forgiving of faults.
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