I am a dweller. I remember random things from forever ago and am afraid people are still upset with me or think I am a creeper because of them. Like if I ever walked behind you and accidentally hit your butt, I still remember, and I am still feeling really uncomfortable that you think I did it on purpose. I am guessing that you have probably forgotten (this is hypothetical, but you get the picture) but if you didn’t I am sure you think I am a pervert.
Something really random that I dwell on and feel an abnormal level of regret/guilt over is the show Brothers and Sisters.
For quite awhile I would go over to my grandparent’s house to watch Desperate Housewives every Sunday night. Even Michael would go with me (I think he just wanted in my pants because now he refuses to watch Desperate Housewives…) after we started dating. I lived with them and got them hooked so it only seemed fitting that I come watch it with them after I moved out.
Before Desperate Housewives was the show Brothers and Sisters. Almost every time I went over there my grandpa would ask if we had watched it and said it was really good and we should.
Pretty soon after I moved out, we found out that my grandpa had cancer. He fought for almost two years, but in February 2007 he died. (By the way this is ridiculous, it was over 5 years ago and I am having to go play a Facebook game to keep myself from crying just writing about it… and then Firefox quit working. Thank goodness that it somehow saved.) And I had never watched Brothers and Sisters. To this day I feel really bad that I never watched it. Like somehow I had failed him. Two reasons this is ridiculous: 1- He probably didn’t care that much in the first place, it is a freaking TV show. 2- Even it if was really important to him for some reason he is surely not up there in Heaven thinking “Stupid Rachel never watched Brothers and Sisters!”. But crazy Rachel still feels some weird guilt over it.
|A terrible picture of a picture of my grandpa and my brother and cousin.|
I was pretty sad when my grandpa died. Oddly enough that was reassuring to me. I have always been a crier, but usually over dumb TV shows, and when people are sick I am pretty collected. So I was kind of afraid I was broken. Like some sort of sociopath. No one close to me had ever died, only people that I didn’t know that well and I had never taken it to hard. But when I knew my grandpa was going to go I was normal and cried. He was really, really sick towards the end, so it was good that he died. He could barely talk, and he couldn’t get up off the bed. (Back to Slingo, I will finish this tonight though!) But it was still sad and I still bawled like a baby. A few times if I remember correctly. I made Michael sad, because after I said good-bye (when the doctors said he wasn’t going to make it much longer) I turned and cried on my mom’s shoulder instead of his. He wanted to be the strong one that made me feel better and I just wanted my mommy. (Taking a zillion breaks to keep my emotions in check made this take a REALLY long time to type)
My grandpa loved babies and kids, and I feel really sad that I wasn’t able to have a baby before he died, but that was out of my control. Plus I would have been pregnant before I got married which is kind of a no-no. But I had total control over the TV show situation. And I just thought of something terrible while I was typing this. Brothers and Sisters was on directly before Desperate Housewives. There was no way we could watch it without missing Desperate Housewives. Maybe he just wanted me to come over earlier and spend more time with them. And the (senseless) guilt continues.
Hopefully this isn’t to terribly written, but I don’t feel up to going back and rereading it, so if it sucks, I am sorry.