There was a woman in my ward who sort of drove me nuts. I called her Rambly Woman when I mentioned her to friends in texts. She always had a story, and it was always a lot longer than it needed to be, and it frequently had nothing to do with whatever we were talking about in class. But everyone else seemed to love her and love her stories, so, you know. Whatever.
Last Sunday, the counselor conducting announced that she was sick, so sick in fact that she'd only been given a few days, and that her family was requesting no visitors so that they could spend her few remaining days with her themselves. They didn't seem to object to having help arranging the funeral though. Again, whatever. So yeah - funeral. She died Wednesday.
Everyone seemed so upset about the news last Sunday, and I sort of felt off. Like I frequently do. I mean. Her husband of several decades died fairly recently, so she's with him again. And she's done. She gets to go home and doesn't have to deal with this crap here on Earth any more. Where's the sorrow in that? Part of me feels like I should feel bad because everyone else clearly does, but I don't. She's better off, and she's not around to annoy me anymore. Everyone wins.
I think this sort of attitude may be part of the reason I don't really have many friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment