this blog is very late, but still on topic.

Yesterday my grandmother was admitted to the hospital. Her health is rapidly decreasing and the doctors are not sure how much time she has left. I think it is safe to say that these thoughts consumed me yesterday. Although she is almost 90 years old and has lived a long and happy life, I still wonder about her thoughts. When she looks back on life, does she see a series of regrets, a chain of events that led her here, or all the happy memories that life brings? Does she think about my grandfather's health, and how her death would kill him? After going to the cemetery and looking at the faded and broken tombstones, I think the married people got it right. The ones who aren't even dead but already have looked into the face of their mortality and seen their names written in stone. Wouldn't this cause you to live life without regrets? Never looking back but always seizing every moment like it could be your last. I can't help but think that there are so many things that my Grandmother didn't do, didn't feel, didn't experience. When I talked to her yesterday, she told me that the only thing she wished, is that she didn't have to be in the hospital but instead could go home to take care of my grandfather. Maybe that's love. Something that even in the face of death, denies self and thinks of the other. My grandparents have been married almost 68 years, and maybe they've learned a few things along the way. I think that Whitman is on to something when he questions why we cover coffins with flowers. Don't we do that in everyday life, we look at truly horrible things and then throw some roses on it, make it look prettier than it really is. Death's ugly sting can surely be nullified by sugarcoating it's stinger.

This is a scatterbrained blog, that has very little to do with Whitman, or Lewis, or any of the other things we've read, but Love and Death are really the only things we read about. So in a way, I'd argue that this has everything to do with what we've read. Thinking about other people and there own thoughts, lives, loves and deaths. I think that our reading so far this semester has prepared me for my Grandmother's inevitable date with death. And maybe that's the point of all these readings, assignments, blog entries. It's not about the grade, it's about learning life, and being able to apply bits and pieces of each thing we read and applying it to help us be better at life.

So maybe this blog is late, and all over the place. I know that if i had written it last night it would of been even more scatterbrained.