I'm in this... weird space, lodged somewhere between sad and angry. I'm feeling all these... feelings, and they're confusing me. (In keeping with the mindfulness I've been exploring of late, I'm doing my best to sit in those feelings and feel them.)
I'm not sure just how much I'm "allowed" to grieve, given the long-standing estrangement. I kinda feel like I'm not entitled to be sad because a) I spent so much time feeling angry (because angry is easier than sad), and b) there are others who have more... right, I guess, to feel the loss simply by virtue of the fact that they spoke to him more recently than a year ago.
I was saddened to realize that I don't have pictures of my grandfather, even from my childhood, when I saw that my siblings had posted his picture on facebook. Then, I felt uncomfortable, because I realized it might look... "bad" if I posted his picture in tribute as well - like I was a hypocrite or just looking for attention. Which led to feelings of being judged (in my head) (by Nick, specifically) (but I realize that this is just a response to feeling guilty for how things played out in the past ten years - I don't know for sure that he does judge me for how I handled myself then or now).
There will not be a "formal" funeral, but a celebration of life instead. I went from being angry enough after the first scene to declare that I wouldn't be attending a funeral, only to be chided by Mom not to make any hasty decisions. After being able to see him that day and giving it some additional thought, I changed my mind and said I would go, the same way we did when Great Grandma passed away: as late as possible, sitting in the back row (not with the "family" - we learned our lesson the hard way with Great Grandpa's funeral), and quietly slipping out at the end of the service - able to pay our respects with no fuss (only to then have Mom said she wouldn't go, and change her mind again and say she WOULD go). Once we discovered that it would be more open-format (read: a room full of the same "family" who judged and condemned us without once asking for our side of the story in ten years milling about, all eyes on the door as new visitors enter), we both decided we weren't comfortable going. I know it sounds childish to say I won't go if my mommy's not going, but in a situation like this, it definitely feels like a matter of safety in numbers.
To be honest? I'm relieved to not be putting myself in the position of another painful scene in front of a much larger audience.
So, yeah. I feel like I'm in no-man's land, and it's kind of uncomfortable. Not quite sure what to make of these emotions, nor how to deal with them. To be all dippy-hippie, I have a feeling that part of the reason this is so hard for me is that I'm finally starting to grieve my lost relationship with my grandfather, as well as the loss of my grandfather. I'm just kind of... here, but not. A huge thank you to all of you who have offered kind words of love and support here, on Twitter, on facebook, and via email - I can't tell you how much it means to me.