Facebook: How to Find out Your Grandfather Is Dead

Well, it's been a long few days. Paw died this morning. I woke up to a lot of texts, most of them from Twitter. One was from my mom asking me to call her when I woke up. Another was a Facebook update from my cousin stating that Paw was in a better place. I assume he meant heaven and not, you know, Disney World, so once again my family emergency was sent to my phone via Facebook update (which usually runs about two hours behind) before anyone actually told me. I called my mom, and she told me Paw had died, which at this point was just confirmation on what I had suspected.

I'm glad I saw him last night. I went after work, and I'm so glad Mike said he'd clean up for me so I could get to the hospital, because that was the last time I saw him alive. I kissed him goodnight, told him I was off all day today, and I'd already told him we would be OK before I went to work. Sandi and I were talking about how we thought he was ready, and I told her about my upcoming procedure that will hopefully help my pain. Even though he was sleeping, I figured Paw would hear enough of it to know that I'd be OK. He always worried about me. He once told me I was too young to have to go through all the surgeries and tests that I've had.

I really want to see my dad. My mom told me she doesn't want him at the funeral. And apparently what I need to get through this doesn't matter to anyone. You know how in Romeo and Juliet at the end the Montagues and Capulets stop fighting because of the tragedy? You know, "doth with their death bury their parents' strife." I think that's the exact line; if not, it's the gist. Well, that doesn't happen in my family. I think after this funeral I need a break from family..."family"...relatives I guess. I'm sure my mom doesn't see this the way I do, and I don't think she's intentionally trying to hurt me, but it doesn hurt me. He's my dad. He's famliy. And they're divorced, but my dad doesn't have a relationship with his dad. Paw was my dad's family for nearly three decades. And every time I went to visit him in the nursing home, he always asked about my dad. I think he'd want him there.

I don't even know if my dad would be able to go or not, or if he'd want to, but I know he would want to be there for Misty and me if we needed him. And now I'm just disillusioned, in a lot of pain, waiting for this all to sink in and hoping my pain pill kicks in before I completely lose it.

I've gotten a lot of support from a select few friends, but that's the circle I chose. And Twitter has been great. I don't know why, but I take a lot of comfort in knowing that there are people out there who care, even if we've never met. Twitter friends beat Facebook friends 90% of the time. A few people from my old church have reached out, too, and that's actually been helpful. Mostly Melissa, who was the only person in my youth group who didn't judge me for being different, didn't treat me any differently. She was always kind to me, whereas the rest of them mostly ignored me, made fun of me, or were indifferent. I guess that's why I go to therapy instead of church.

I'm getting off track. Let's sum up: Facebook = good for support, bad way to find out about family crises; Twitter = awesome; Family = unintentionally stressful; Friends = :)