I got to sleep at a normal hour last night (well, 2 AM, which, for me, qualifies). Proceeded to sleep right through my alarm clock, or possibly to turn the alarms off and go right back to sleep; I can't say for sure. Woke up about 2:15, and realized I wasn't going to have time to write a proper entry here before sundown. I logged on, checked my e-mail, logged off, started typing, then got a phone call.

From my father.

My father hates using the phone.

That fact in itself told me pretty much everything I needed to know.

My grandmother passed away a few minutes ago. My mother's mother, that is.

I still have the option of going back home for the weekend, but I think I'd rather stay by myself in the apartment. For the moment. But I think I'll be heading back on Saturday night, and I have a funeral to attend on Sunday, and I'll probably be spending more time with relatives (like my mother) over the next week, so if entries are a bit sporadic, you'll know why.

I saw her, I should point out, only three times since September. I should've visited more often. I am however glad that I did at least see her for a few minutes in the hospital on Wednesday. And that she saw me. And at least seemed to be amused by the poem I read her.

Enough.