On My Grandmother, An Obituary.

My grandmother died on the afternoon of the 2nd of January. She was 91. She had been in an essentially vegetative state for many years following a series of small strokes. I doubt she noticed her own death.

I had intended this post to describe her unique blend of evil, made all the more potent by its pettiness and to work from there to demonstrate why my response of indifference is both rationally and emotionally appropriate.

Families are curious things. Mine is large, gnarled, contingent and sprawling. I find that my grandmother was not part of it, had never been part of it and now she is dead.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.