The things we miss

My grandfather is dying. He has cancer, it's spread, and his doctors say we have to wait to give him palliative treatments because he doesn't feel enough pain yet. My twisted sense of humor loves that sentence. My mother is nursing him for a couple of days. I can go to London in November during my holiday, but who knows if he will still be living at home then?

Nice summer.

I feel like calling people up and boring them with my sadness, but instead I bore my sister who is contractually obligated to listen to my moans. I feel like not going to work this morning. Stay in bed and eat crackers. Except I am still running a fever so this could be stupid.

I don't experience a lot of homesickness here in Berlin. I miss people...But I love living here. Yet these past few days I realise that I want to help out my mother, who after losing her mother is watching her father deteriorate every day. Nothing I can do for the moment. Except listen to her.

I'm grieving for my grandmother too. It's a summer of loss, but also a summer of fun, of meeting people, of dancing and of happiness.

It's never black or white.

So it really has been a nice summer. As well. As well as being a horrible one.

And I seem to have no more crackers left.