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Sobbed: "It's different." Mom: "No shit!"

by TheAngstyPoet on February 4, 2013   |  FacebooktwitterTumblr

The last two weeks have been especially hard for my mother and Aunt Mimi (aka Mims). They packed up and moved my grandfather's apartment in a week and a half. The move itself carries its own baggage for another backstory. The move was emotional for all of us. My grandfather had lived there for a good chunk of my life. Not to mention is was the last concrete place to hold memories of my grandmother since she had chosen to die at home.

The Saturday before my grandpa actually moved, I had called my aunt. I wanted to discuss periodic weight loss rewards particularly boots. Once I brought up the subject, she became angry, complaining about money. I knew it was expensive to move my grandfather but it didn’t occur to me before. I reacted childishly arguing back to my aunt’s claims that instead of buying shoes I should be studying. Later I called my mom and told her how upset I was that my aunt yelled at me. Then she told me that Aunt Mimi cried on the phone the night before. Aunt Mimi said it was like MomMom died all over again.

Overall it was emotionally hard for all of us but it was especially difficult for my aunt and mother. When my MomMom had died, Mims & Ma were the ones who had sorted all the belongings and sifted through the emotional heartbreak. As they packed the remaining belongings in my grandfather's apartment, an emotional wave of the past hit them. Packing items into boxes and wrapping pictures in bubble wrap, they could remember where my MomMom had bought this or that.

I felt bad. I didn’t know. I wasn’t there. The meaning of my grandfather’s move hadn’t set in yet. I began to feel ashamed that I was insensitive. I became homesick and asked my mother if I could go home that weekend. I didn’t understand how emotionally shocking my grandfather’s new apartment was.

On Friday afternoon my aunt picked me up from school. I put all my bags and books in the back of the car. Later we drove to pick up my sister and dinner to bring to my grandpa’s. I hated the new place immediately.
Before my grandpa opened the door my sister said, “It looks like a hospital.” Railings lined the drab blue hallways were with no decorative pictures. The hallways were narrow


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