Sat on the sofa and mulling over 2006. My fingers entice me down an antsy path toward an emotional ache that my heart knows only too well. It’s 10:31pm and there’s fuck all on telly, yet here I am attempting to embellish upon my humble blog the deeply profound feelings pertaining my grandmother’s passing this year.

Death is a natural fact of life. I respect that. I accept that. I embrace. Alas, no level of fundamental understanding takes away the tightness in my chest, the feeling of sincere loss, and the curious wonderment of “why didn’t I hug her more?” that runs through the fabric of my being every day.

I bitch and moan about the fucking subway ride in the morning… that probably won’t change, I’m a whining prick - deal with it. It hit me today while riding the godforsaken shit trip that is the C train, that I’ve become much closer to a part of my family that I seldom experience. Since my grandmother left our lives I’ve received emails and indeed comments on my video post, that moved me - my uncle David that I hardly keep in touch with - an email from my Uncle Stuart that falls under that same category, and I even receive emails from my Aunt Susan who feels now compelled to send me those “send this to 10 other people for it to come true” emails - cute.

I remember the day of the funeral - an event that I thought about on the plane to England. Dread, shear dread. But I look back and have fond memories of that day. Seeing cousins that I hadn’t seen in 10 years. My Uncles David and Stuart that hugged me like they’d never done before, and a beautiful group of other family members and friends that were there to celebrate, and moreover, say farewell to the backbone of our family.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about Doris - one of the most amazing people that graced my life with such unconditional love that one produces a grin when remembered.