So... sorry to not have attended class today (especially for you, Michelle; what a horrible scene partner I am. Luckily, our scene is mostly monologues and eensy weensy bits of dialogue).
I spent much too much time studying for what amounted to be a laughable test. "Number 13, HA! obviously A ... number 14, pshh I mean really .... number 15, please! At least challenge me!" I woke up with a splitting headache feeling like I was about to vomit for...this?
Anyway, aside from staying up until 5am in a foggy stupor, staring at my laptop until my eyes bled, I received some rather disheartening news last night. My great uncle passed away. Before you say anything, my family agrees it was probably for the best. He suffered from Alzheimer's for a long time and was on the brink of setting up life in a nursing home. (Although Rosencrantz would disagree...living cooped up in a cell is probably better than living no life at all). But if you met my mother's side of the family, you would not think so. My Uncle George looked a little like Mr. Magoo with a quick wit and remarkable joviality-- but towards the end of his life, all of this went to pot. As with many sufferers of Alzheimer's, he lost himself. His body was there doing the best it could, but his mind was somewhere else.
My great aunt is supposedly handling things quite elegantly (although I believe it hasn't truly hit her yet). She is having everyone over for an intimate memorial service with lunch to follow. There will not be a wake because, as she puts it, "wakes are barbaric."
Love,
Katie
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Katie,
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry to hear about your great uncle. What a difficult process to live through - few things frighten me more than the idea of someone I love losing themself and their memories. It puts one in a painful paradox when that suffering is ended... I am thinking of you.