I stayed home from school today on account of my sore throat and swollen tonsils, even though my throat has been just as sore and my tonsils have been just as swollen the past ten days. Oh well, I'm taking care of myself now :P. I have a doctor appointment tomorrow afternoon, where hopefully I will get the antibiotics so my sore throat will go away.
I had a dream last night about my grandma and grandpa. My grandma was alive, but still sick. I hate those dreams, I still have them about my mom too. I always wake up thinking she is alive, then realize, that she's not. My grandma died exactly a week ago 12:00 a.m. today. Maybe that's exactly what time I had my dream?
It's so easy to hide from my grandma's death. I only used to see her every couple of months, so I can still pretend she is alive. I don't have any pictures of her lying around.. The only things I have to remind me of her are the pile of old books that belonged to her, that my grandpa gave me, and that stupid broken door hanger from Africa. I would let that stupid thing get broken. I hate myself. I'm so careless.

I miss my grandma a lot.Now that I'm actually thinking about it, facing her death. My dad said something to me about her obituary being online. It wasn't until he said that to me today that I realized that she's actually gone.

I want her back.

There is absolutely no one in the world like my grandma. Such an amazing story teller. Always so sure about herself. She could laugh at anything. She had such a beautiful mind. Such quick, imaginative thoughts. She loved beauty, art, and culture, and poetry, and literature. That's something my grandma and I shared together our deep love for literature.

So she really is actually gone.

In my dream, my grandma was standing and walking but she seemed very small and thin. She was still dying. My grandpa wore a grim smile. He was sad but resolute. Just like he was in real life, but happier. In real life, when she was lying in the hospital bed, I refused to believe she would die. I kept her mouth moist and her skin moisturized, knowing that inside of this dying body, lay a beautiful, strong soul that I love, thinking she would emerge any second. In the end, my grandma wanted to die. She was done fighting. She saw herself as old and ready to die. She said she had lived her life. How could my grandma want to be dead??? How could she want to leave all of us behind??

In the dream my grandpa and I recited Shakespeare together:
"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time. Out, out brief candle
Life's but a walk shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot. Full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."

In other news, I have to memorize more of Macbeth and recite it for the DVD I'm sending to Dartmouth, if I even get the DVD finished in time. And, honestly, I don't even care if I do.