So, apparently my Grandmother had a stroke. I have zero information other than that. She could be dead and I wouldn't know. That small amount of info came via my mom who got it from my little brothers. So she probably doesn't know much else either.
I should probably care more than I do right now. I mean, she was an ok grandmother once. Always remembered my birthday, which is a plus in my family. And she turned me on to strawberries on vanilla ice cream. Which is nice, considering I don't really like vanilla ice cream.
But, ever since Mom and Dad split up, she's pretended I don't exist. Which I'll never understand. Sure, we aren't blood related (this is actually my step dad's mom) but still, she's been around since I was 7. I would think it'd be hard to be a grandmother for so many years and then just stop. The family is pretty nuts-o though, so she probably can't figure out how she could/should acknowledge me as her granddaughter if her son doesn't treat me like his daughter anymore.
So yeah, I'm a little sad. I get sad if I hear a stranger had a stroke. It sucks. And I tend to have a heart so I sympathize. But that's just it, I sympathize as if she were a stranger instead of my grandmother. And that sucks.
And as for my Dad, I would like to feel bad for him. His mother is sick. But I don't.
This will probably end up a poem... whoever said I should write a book about my family relationships didn't know what they were asking for.
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