I belong to Netflix. I joined towards the end of my pregnancy with H because I knew that there were some cold movie watching months in my future. This last disc that I got was the pilot episode for "Dead Like Me".
I remember when I put this in my queue, I thought to myself that there was no way that I could have watched this show about modern day Grim Reapers a couple of years ago. My dad's death was way too close and I still felt very raw and sensitive to anything surrounding death.
Today I tried to watch the episode. And I did fine, kind of. I had to turn it off. When they started dividing up the reasons for dying, I just couldn't take it anymore. When I was watching, I kept thinking, "This is hard for me. It would have been much harder last year." And, this is supposed to be a comedy. Not funny for me yet.
Then tonight I decided to check up on some blogs that I randomly read here and there. I felt this urge to read Clusterfook by Lisa who has cancer. Kind of an overwhelming urge. And logged in to find out that she had died. Early 40s. 2 young daughters and a husband. I'm sad.
I keep thinking about when I stopped checking Lisa's blog. I remember that it was around Christmas time and she was writing about this being her last holidays with her family. I remember thinking that it was all so depressing and I just couldn't read anymore.
Tonight I feel guilty for that. I wish that I would have commented. I wish that I would have been able to write my support while she decided to end treatment and entered hospice. But I didn't. I mean, here I am, able to turn my head away from cancer. Lucky me. But I couldn't even read the daily musings of a stranger yet. Needless to say, I haven't healed as much as I thought.