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Death in the family

Steve -- my best friend, my non-boyfriend, my platonic Significant Other--well, his grandmother just died this morning.  She was the only person from his early years who ever believed in him, the only relative, aside from his late brother, whose society was other than a complete disaster for him.

He's holding up well--numbness, I guess, plus the fact that he knew it was coming (she was 98 and had been in a hospice for a few weeks.)  He's going up for the funeral, buying a jacket along the way, standing it for as long as he can (he hates his birthplace with utter passion).  I offered to go with him, but he said, "No...you don't have to, you have obligations, you already used all that vacation time."  I took last week off, at his suggestion, which I knew was a mistake.  But he wanted to spend time with me so badly.  And now I so wish I hadn't. 

I don't know what I can do except what I usually do, which is feed him, take him places, and say sympathetic things.  I feel like the world's worst non-girlfriend.  He will have support there:  his oldest friend still lives there, and he's godfather to her three daughters, who also live there, so that's something.  But I feel I should be there. 

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
kalleah
May. 24th, 2007 02:26 am (UTC)
So sorry. Hang in there.
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