I know that today, we're supposed to be overwhelmingly thankful for everything under the sun, but I'm just not feeling it. Today, I'm wondering about things. (like today's any different than any other day, right?)
Anyway, why does so much have to change when someone dies? And how come death is so final? I know the heady reasoning, of course. But, the reality of it just keeps raising its evil little head. Today, before prayer, usually - for like, every year since I have memory in my mind, we go around the table and say what we're thankful for. Guess what? Apparently, now that my sister is dead, we don't have anything to be thankful for. My dad completely dodged the thing. During his prayer, he prayed about all the sick people in our family, but he didn't mention the GIGANTIC hole in the room. I cried during the whole prayer, well, from as soon as I realized that the subject was being completely avoided.
It wasn't until about 4 hours later that I couldn't stand it anymore. Mini Mann was on the phone with my cousin. Her dad is one of the sick people that my dad prayed for. I just looked around and said, "Does no one miss her?" My mom said that she did. That she missed how she probably would have stayed the night to prepare the meal with her this morning.
That's another funny thing to me. How is it, exactly, that people can remember things so differently from how they really happened? It's like there's some kind of a death amnesia that happens, sort of how you can't remember the actual pain of childbirth almost as soon as you're holding your baby. But that makes more sense to me, because you actually get something good from a baby being born. An amnesia affect that seems to have occurred in my mother's mind doesn't make the same sense to me. Unless, of course, she feels so guilty about how life really was that's she's happier because she can say that things were however she wants them to have been.
If there are those with insight, you're welcome to tell me anything you think might help me to understand this phenomenon.