
Have you ever notice if you get into an elevator with other people, you don’t make eye contact but stare at the floor numbers above the elevator doors like you don’t know that after 2 comes 3 or 7 into 6…
I had just come from my counseling session. As I got into the elevator, there was someone already in there…a woman fumbling around with files and the floor 2 button lit. There are a lot of different types of business that use that building…I always wonder when I get off or on at the 5th floor, that they are thinking – oh, she’s from the psyche floor! But I guess I’m thinking I’m the center of the world from my persective...which is more the reality?
Elevators are very simple, it’s either up or down. From floors 1 to 7….is that how life can play? I am continuously told how I think is very “black or white”. Since I get off on the 5th floor – to what degree am I stepping out of?
Today is that of a mundane, morbid experience. A funeral. My husband’s grandmother pasted away on Christmas evening. This week has been all about death. Death. I’ve imagined a lot about death the last 8 months. It sometimes is all I can think about and googled. Grandma died at a nursing home (a dismal place to live the last days of ones life), the entire family went to the home to see a dead body. Rigamortus had already set in…(they called to say she was dead around 6:30 pm, but I think it was very much earlier. She was cold and in an awful position. We got there within 15 minutes of the call.) Grandma’s face was waxy and had her mouth open in that scary way. It didn’t help the picture that the staff had stuck her teeth in – I thought that was a little weird.

I had just come from my counseling session. As I got into the elevator, there was someone already in there…a woman fumbling around with files and the floor 2 button lit. There are a lot of different types of business that use that building…I always wonder when I get off or on at the 5th floor, that they are thinking – oh, she’s from the psyche floor! But I guess I’m thinking I’m the center of the world from my persective...which is more the reality?
Elevators are very simple, it’s either up or down. From floors 1 to 7….is that how life can play? I am continuously told how I think is very “black or white”. Since I get off on the 5th floor – to what degree am I stepping out of?
Today is that of a mundane, morbid experience. A funeral. My husband’s grandmother pasted away on Christmas evening. This week has been all about death. Death. I’ve imagined a lot about death the last 8 months. It sometimes is all I can think about and googled. Grandma died at a nursing home (a dismal place to live the last days of ones life), the entire family went to the home to see a dead body. Rigamortus had already set in…(they called to say she was dead around 6:30 pm, but I think it was very much earlier. She was cold and in an awful position. We got there within 15 minutes of the call.) Grandma’s face was waxy and had her mouth open in that scary way. It didn’t help the picture that the staff had stuck her teeth in – I thought that was a little weird.
It reminded me of the movie “scream” with that mask or the painting by Edward Munch of a face with it’s mouth open.
As this week transpired into a 7 hours ordeal of a “viewing” (my mother-in-law wouldn’t go home because she was afraid she was going to miss someone or wanted to see who sent flowers and if she thought they were good or bad taste - Weird #2) The viewing of course was an open casket in a very small room that was like a hot house and stinky flowers – why do people send stinky flowers? My only thought has to be that they are cheap because they know they are going to a grave. I got to the funeral home after my appointment, and I was ready to leave within an hour…how can people stare at a body and say “oh, doesn’t she look like she is sleeping.” or “she looks so much like her younger self – what miracles make-up can do…” Don’t get me wrong – she looked ten times better then at the nursing home - dead.
Which leads to the funeral this afternoon. Started out a semi-cloudy day and the temperature wasn’t that cold. Brent & I arrived at the church for the family lunch – he goes with his brothers, I see my ex-sister-in-law and hung out with her…I missed our outsider’s comments about the Cooper Clan. For a funeral…it was nothing out of the ordinary…grandma was well loved by her family and friends. She lived almost to her 92nd birthday (12/31) shy of 6 days…91 years seems like forever….3 children, 7 grandchildren, 9 ½ great-grandchildren. At the burial site, it was Oklahoma cold wind with the feeling of rain in the air -- how appropreate.
Family. Death. How is it not better for grandma to die so old? I look and I will never have children, no grandchildren, no great-grandchildren. Who will be there when I am 91 years old?
Which leads to the funeral this afternoon. Started out a semi-cloudy day and the temperature wasn’t that cold. Brent & I arrived at the church for the family lunch – he goes with his brothers, I see my ex-sister-in-law and hung out with her…I missed our outsider’s comments about the Cooper Clan. For a funeral…it was nothing out of the ordinary…grandma was well loved by her family and friends. She lived almost to her 92nd birthday (12/31) shy of 6 days…91 years seems like forever….3 children, 7 grandchildren, 9 ½ great-grandchildren. At the burial site, it was Oklahoma cold wind with the feeling of rain in the air -- how appropreate.
Family. Death. How is it not better for grandma to die so old? I look and I will never have children, no grandchildren, no great-grandchildren. Who will be there when I am 91 years old?

Why would anyone want to live that long with no one? I know it is selfish...but I feel like everything, everyone would be better off without me....