I don't normally publish personal posts. In fact I think I've only ever done one or two. I'm more of a "keep it light and funny" sort of blogger, sharing the bits and pieces I pick up on the web. I keep my personal thoughts and feelings to myself, jotting them down in a journal or talking them over to my dearest friends.

Today is a bit different though. I'm stuck at work and treading water in a sea of emotions. Writing just seemed like the best release ...

Death. It is sad, it is scary, it is dreaded. Personally, I do my best not to think about it. I ignore the fact that I'm not invincible. I don't go out and do stupid things, trying to bring my own death on prematurely, but I also don't live in daily fear of dying. I just try to live the life I have to the very best. Let the universe/God/the fates take care of the serious stuff.

But every so often I'm faced with it, faced with death. Today was one of those days. I had two very sad pieces of news. The continued and more serious failing of my grandmother's health, and the death of a friend/classmate who, from outside, looked to have everything going for her and was just on top of the world.

My 90+ year old grandmother was hospitalized after having a heart attack. She also suffers from advancing dymensia. While I wasn't there to witness it, my mother said she was rather combative in the hospital, trying to fight her way out of everybody's hold. She just wanted to go home, even though she doesn't really know where home is anymore. She can't remember the year, let alone the decade, and my mother is easily confused as one of her own seven sisters. An original Southern Belle from South Carolina, Alexine has always been prim and proper but generous, loving, elegant and active. As a nurse in WWII she met and instantly fell in love with my grandfather. They were married in secret almost immediately. To watch such a strong, loving, independent woman unravel, a byproduct of the aging process, has been eye opening and terribly sad. The past few months have been particularly hard on my mother. My grandmother calls her at all hours, confused with how to operate the phone or upset that her clock won't work. My mother's patience is unwavering and her emotional strength is truly amazing. My grandmother has been effectively dying for months now, her body slowly shutting down, and her mind retreating into its own depths. To live to her 90s but to slowly fade away like this. It is heart-wrenching.

But then I got another piece of news this morning. A phone call from a friend revealed that a classmate and good friend of mine died last night due to complications/internal bleeding from a stomach problem. She was 27. Graduating from grad school in May. Engaged. Getting married this September. I'm still a little in shock. Just terrible.

My grandmother in her 90s. My friend in her 20s. One facing death after a full life. One who has died, barely letting her spread her smile and joy very far.

I'm an athlete. I swim/bike/run just about every day. I am scared - truly scared - of the day when I have to stop because my body just can't do it anymore. I'm scared of a day when I might not recognize who I'm with or where I am. I know it frustrates my grandmother. I can see it in her face. She is ashamed when she can't remember a name or place a memory. Like a child who can't remember the right sequence of numbers when counting 1-10 in front of the class. But then there's my friend. She was 27. Quieted too early.

Such opposing forces, such different situations. Both make me sit and cherish the life I have, the life I am living while mourning for both of them. Mourning the life my grandmother can't hold onto, mourning the life that my friend lost.

What a sad and gut wrenching day.