oh the weather outside is weather

Do you ever think about what a miracle it is that you're you? I don't mean to get all college freshman on you. There will be no, "what does it all mean?" nonsense or anything like that. But do you ever just sit and breathe and think about all of the little things that have to happen in order for you to be sitting there breathing? And that, quicker than anything, The Universe can just be like POOF YOU'RE DEAD, just because one of those little things maybe stopped happening?

I found a picture of my Grandma in my purse the other day. I forgot it was in there, slipped into a tiny pocket, but when I found it, I remembered putting it there. Joe and I were almost done packing, getting ready to move out of the condo Grandma had lived in before she went to the nursing home, when I found a tiny picture of her, hidden away in the basket we kept extra keys in. I didn't know where to put it, everything we owned was in boxes, and I didn't want to lose it or for it to get damaged, so I slipped it into the safest pocket in my purse, tucked away to be found later.

My parents and aunts and uncles are selling Grandma's condo now, of course. There's no one else to live in it. Joe and I were only staying there until we found a permanent place to live. The condo's been painted and they've installed new carpet and cleaned everything from top to bottom. I've avoided going to see it. I'm sure it looks very nice, but I'd rather remember it as Grandma's. Joe and I didn't really change much more than the artwork when we moved in (it being only a temporary arrangement), aside from adding a few pieces of our own furniture, and even though we lived there for over a year, it never felt like anything other than Grandma's. Like we were squatters and at any moment, Grandma was going to come home and ask what the hell we were doing in her house. Only she would have never done that. She'd have been glad to have the company, would have sat on the sofa next to me, maybe stolen the TV remote to turn on the Hallmark channel.

My mom sent me the condo listing today, which makes the fact that it's going to be gone all the more real. I'm surprised at how much it's bothering me. I was so ready to move out when we bought our house but liked knowing that the condo was still there, still looking just like it did when Grandma left, except for, you know, empty. And now it's for sale and it WILL sell, probably quite quickly, and it feels like the last tangible connection to Grandma will soon be gone. I didn't know it would make me this sad. Grief is so weird.

Dude, I am so depressing. I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else. Like the weather. It was freezing just last week, but it's supposed to be 60 tomorrow. This winter has been crazy confusing. I can't keep track of what month it is. I go outside and it feels like April, but the calendar tells me it's only January. Not that I'm complaining, it's just that my brain can only handle so much confusion. This weather might be the thing that sends me over the edge. Who knew that's all it would take?