Two weeks of presentations.
Two weeks of papers.
Two weeks of crazy and late nights and not sleeping and eating too much sugar and drinking too many coffee drinks of varying levels of actual coffee.
The best part of becoming an academic is that you live by the calendar. The worst part of becoming an academic is that you die by the calendar.
Die by the calendar? Die? Dying?
My grandmother is dying. She fell and she had surgery and she's not eating and she's violent and she can't walk and she forgets.
Dying is so hard. I always thought it was the easiest thing in the world... the letting go... but it may be the hardest.
The body doesn't want to let go. The body fights, fights to stay, refuses to give up, refuses to go. Good byes go on and on and on.
This isn't what I started to write. I started to write that in two weeks, my academic year would be done and that my writing life and my blogging life are going to look very different and I am very excited!
Instead, I'm telling you about my dying grandmother and how in two weeks everything is going to be different.
Funny how words work that way. The mind wants to say one thing and the heart, another.
