I 'should' be better to my mom

Grief is like a dimmer switch. On one hand, the intensity of all the bad stuff is blinding now: I want to claw at the light like a vampire and hiss. The good news is...at least you don't have to listen to them snoring anymore, am I right? Huh? What's that? You'd take them back, snoring and all if you could? Oh, right. Good catch. Moving on. Anyway, there's more good news!

Grief turns the intensity on the rest of the world waaaay down. For example, my wife died in October at the age of 27. After that, my grandma died in December at the age of 93. I also had an aunt die a few days after that. I don't know her age. But those deaths barely made a blip on my radar. When my aunt died, it was all I could do to stop myself from saying "So?"

I live in a big, clumsy, heavy turtle shell of wife-grief. I'm kind of impervious to new grief, you know? I'm sorry I can't come to the grief right now, I'm on the other line. Your position in line is - 2 - please hold. And then I'd ironically have the hold music be Billy Joel's "Only The Good Die Young" (and so you can jam out to Catholic schoolgirls, you pervert).

I find myself not caring as much as I used to. As my generation says, "I have no fucks to give." It's not so much that I don't give a fuck. It's more like I can't give a fuck. You see? All my fucks-to-give are currently in use. My sister needed her gall bladder removed since my wife died. Did she live? Yes. Is she fine? Yes. So for me: don't care. My mom's doctor called her regarding worrisome numbers about her liver and she needed more testing. Sorry mom, but I can't spare a care until the test comes back 'positive.' Grief is whiting out my vision. It's hard to focus on other stuff.

Some son I am, huh? Well, I wasn't supposed to be a damn widower until my mom had already been dead for decades of natural old age! OK, I know this sounds bad. I really do love my mom (she's well by the way, tests came back fine). To quote the timeless words of Gomez Addams: "I didn't hate my mother, it was an accident!" That was a family that new about death. I bet the Addams family would be supportive about my grief. They might even have a phone that can text emojis beyond the grave or help me reanimate her hand. You know. To help around the house. What was I talking about? Oh, right. Grief. Dimmer switches. Yeah.

*fade to black*