I think 2013 is going to go down as the Year of Death around here. My fourth friend/relation/whatever died last week and was buried Monday. This one was not as difficult, though, because it was truly her turn to go.
Cloa (pronounced with a long o and silent a) was an elderly lady in our congregation. She and her hubby were unable to have children and since my mom lived so far away, I adopted her as my "mom away from mom" when I was pregnant with Abby. She became "Grammie" to Abby and to the rest of the Wild Bunch.
She and her hubby were relatively active until the last few years, then her health started failing. The last six months have been particularly rough, as she was bedfast, on a feeding tube, and unable to communicate other than "yes" or "no". Her brain was still there, which made it even worse. She's been so sick, for so long, I wasn't sad for her that she passed. I'm not even sure I'm sad for me. I'm just sick of people dying already. I'm starting to feel like the Angel of Death or something.
Dave is sick and I'm at home with him instead of being at HELP, wrangling other peoples' children. And I should be cleaning house. We're having a young married lady from our congregation over for supper before church. She's been here already this week, cleaning out the basement. She actually does this for fun. Aside from that, she's a delightful person but I really feel like the house needs to be cleaner.
And why? Here's the deal: the house can be cleaned but then it will be totally messed up in a fraction of the time that it took me to clean it. It seems like a waste of time, energy, and good juju to bother to clean the house. Sadly, it seems to be important to the majority of society to have a clean house. So there we are. Bleah.