A Funeral

Yesterday I went to my grandma's funeral. She was 78. From what I hear, her death was very painful- which is really sad to me. It was hard at first for me to look at her in the casket. I've never seen a dead body. She looked as if she were sleeping. I expected her to stir and open her eyes. But her skin was stiff and cold.



I was close to my grandparents. My grandpa died pretty unexpectedly while I was on my mission. I have never even seen his grave. His death didn't really effect me like I thought it would. I wasn't effected by my grandmother's death either until I went to the funeral. I know that if I was at my grandpa's funeral, it would have got to me too. I never cry... but I couldn't hold it back during her service. It felt good. I forgot how good it feels after you cry.



My grandma was an awesome lady. She really missed my grandpa. They loved each other so much. She was the last in her family to die. I read a small little entry (probably her last) that she began in a small notebook. In it she said that she was grateful to be able to receive care and that it was a blessing. She was at a care home. She said "oh how I miss my dear John," which made me want to cry. She also said that she knew he was an angel and had work to do and that she felt her sisters around her to comfort her. She also expressed the fact that she missed her parents, but she wasn't sure she was worthy for them to see her. My grandma pretty much ran off to Hollywood and met and married my grandpa without telling her parents. She was rebellious. You should see some of the pictures I have of her.





I am glad she is with my grandpa and her family now and that she doesn't have to feel pain anymore. I am really glad I was there at her funeral. It makes me realize what I missed out on at my grandpa's funeral- his death was never real to me and I had no chance to accept and purge my feelings about his death. But in a way, I did that at my grandma's funeral because his death became more of a reality to me.


Now, for a completely different topic. I am a little angry about this one, and it has nothing to do with my very bad day I wrote about last time. I know what I want. I know what I feel when I meet someone that I like. I don't have extensive dating experience, but I have learned a lot in those experiences that i have had. I am not bitter towards any girl in my past. I also know that I always eventually find a girl that suites me better than the last.

I know there are tons of girls that would make a good companion. But for me, it isn't just about whether they are trustworthy and smart and pretty. There has to be some kind of spark. And I don't know how else to describe it. I know what it feels like though. It is the excitement and nervousness, the feeling that you could do anything when you are with them. It is the little bit of mystery but at the same, a seemingly unnatural trust that you feel when you are with them. My eyes are not closed to who would best suit me. You might argue that it hasn't worked for me yet... I mean, so far I have only been rejected in the end. But guess what? It only works out ONCE. Every other time it will end and someone will be rejected.

I am not marriage hungry. And right now, I really don't have the time, resources, and money for a girl. I don't need to have a girlfriend to be happy. I want to focus on what I do best and on what I enjoy. I want to focus on making me happy. If somewhere along the way a girl with that spark catches my attention, sure I will pursue it. I'm not anti-relationship or anti-marriage. But I have plenty to do all on my own. I'm sorry that things don't work out how we think they should. It really is unfortunate. It would save a lot of pain and heartache. But they don't work out in any logical way and I am starting to get sick of how we always talk about how guys suck or girls suck and dating is messed up. I am guilty of this kind of talk. But I think I've learned to just live my life the way I want. I will do what is best for me. If a girl works into that equation eventually- than wonderful. But until then, life's going to be wonderful anyway.

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Saint Patrick's Day was not a lucky one for me. A lot of terrible things happened. I don't know if I've had a day that could even come close to matching. You know that saying, when it rains, it pours? Yeah... this was one of those days.



The night before I was working on editing some scenes for El Maldito to see what we needed to get pick-ups for. We just needed to make sure that what we got would cut together. I had a mid-term the next day and so I came home after 1am and began to study. I went to bed and got up 4 hours later to study more. The mid-term went well.

After the mid-term however, I was supposed to pick up some people and head back up to Heber City to shoot more for El Maldito. It was already going to be a crazy insane shoot. We had to build the set on location and film there before it got dark. But when I called to confirm plans, i learned that the truck that was heading up with all the equipment and set pieces had broken down.



So, I was supposed to go and load my car with what I could and head up. But then I got call that I needed to load food into my car from another person's car because he wasn't able to make it to the shoot. So I do that and am on my way to the broken-down truck when I get a call from my aunt. She was trying to get a hold of my mother at work because my grandma was in the hospital and was given 24 hours to live. By this time I was at the truck and I am trying to move stuff into my car when I get a text message from a certain girl of interest saying that she's not interested even though she led me to believe she was. By this point I didn't really have any emotion left and I just pushed everything to the back of my mind and carried on.

I got to Heber, helped build the jail house set and then was asked to pick op dinner that was supposed to be ready for all the actors and crew. Well, I get to KFC and they hand me a huge thing of coleslaw and say have a nice day. So after finding out that there was obvious mis-communication I ordered $100 worth of KFC and had to wait 20 minutes for it to be ready. We were already in a huge rush.

We shot into the night and I got the word that my grandma died just an hour before my family made it to the hospital in St. George. I didn't know if I was going to have to drive down that night or what plans were and I hadn't touched my homework due the next morning. So, at 9:45pm I apologized and left the shoot. They kept shooting until 3am.

Since then I have been no less busy. Yesterday I was on set shooting from 6:00pm-6:00am, did my cleaning check, and went to bed just as the sun was coming through the window and my roommate's alarm was going off. I got up at 11:00am to come to work. And here I am until 9.

I will be driving down to St. George tomorrow and attending my grandma's funeral Saturday. Sometime during all that I will study for another midterm which I need to take first thing Monday morning. The title of this post is a story/movie my grandma had and that I watched a lot growing up. It is quite fitting. Happy St. Patrick's Day.