. . . a break in the blog

it was two days after i last posted that my grandmother passed away, and until this evening i haven't really had the urge to get back to blogging. the past couple of weeks have gone by in a bit of a blur for me. grief sucks. i've been thinking about reading didion's *the year of magical thinking*, but someone told me that while it is an excellent read, it migh make me feel worse. while at home helping my mom deal with the endless business of death--and i cannot believe how much buiness is involved, i kept thinking about *six feet under*. during our many funeral home visits (a family run outfit), the funeral director(s) were complaining about this corporate-run funeral home in the area that runs death notices in the local papers for a week--simply as a way to advertise their services. here's my crash course in the death industry: caskets. pick a color. pick a gauge. pick ornamentation. really. military caskets. wood is for men. women like rose and pink. in death, you can't escape gender. or the military. obits: one day is free, after that it's $160 with picture, a little less without. pick a good picture. most important. pick a good picture. flowers. casket sprays. whole casket or half? don't forget the flowers. roses are a good choice. take an ativan. always take an ativan. or two. grief. i miss calling to find out how she is doing. i miss our broken conversations because she didn't have her hearing aid in, or she had the tv on too loud. i miss everything about her, every single day. 1918-2005. nana.