Another funeral.

My grandfather died March 12, 2006.
My grandmother died yesterday, December 15, 2006. Lung cancer. Terminal. She was diagnosed in June, so this isn't unexpected, and therefore I have had time to resign myself to the situation.
This probably explains why I have remained curiously stoic (and trademarkly sarcastic) during this entire ordeal. Perhaps it is because I released my hysterics in June, on a rather long drive home from Gainesville. Remarkably I did not crash; still, I do not recommend driving on I-75 in hysterics.
So right now I am in Ohio, sitting in a Hilton, trying to get some energy out before I go to bed. The funeral is tomorrow, noon, Akron. And I think, once the funeral is over, I can clear my head, and resume my life.
This semester has been hellish, and this week has been particularly rough. There was a foreseen emotional disaster for which I was prepared, and a rather unseen emotional speed bump, and all of this on top of finals. And now my grandmother. So, quite frankly, I am a wreck.
I'm hoping that the funeral will allow me some catharsis. I was extraordinarily close with my grandmother, who was a consummate optimist. In a way she was obnoxiously optimistic. Everything was great, the best, wonderful. I never heard her speak a harsh word about anybody. I don't know how any one individual could be so, well, kind, and non-judgmental. But that was my grandmother.
No real point, to this rant, except to allow me a few moments to write and to be seen before I head to bed.
So indeed, this is a closing point, and hopefully a turning point. I no longer have the specter of my grandmother's impending death lingering over my head (and heartless as that may sound, the anticipation of a dreaded event is so much worse than the event itself) and therefore I think I can approach the coming months and my final semester in Gainesville with a clear mind. Solidify old friendships, perhaps forge several new, and enjoy myself.
Enjoy life.
Be alive.
I'd like to try that, for awhile.