Rest In Peace, Lee McClanahan

I just heard that my grandfather died this morning. Hopefully he’s actually dead, and not just … I don’t know, hanging on with an indetectably weak heartbeat and ridiculously slow breathing. (He’s apparently been able to go a couple of weeks with breaths as far apart as about one a minute… Those meditators/yogi are just practicing for dying when they consciously shut their bodies down like that.)

It’s hard for me to not come across as stoic/callous in this, but it’s like a couple years ago when grandmother died, we’ve all been mourning for a long time. There’s not a whole lot left to do, emotionally, at this point. Nearly all that could be recognized as being Lee McClanahan seemed to have passed from that shrivelling husk of meat some time ago. He wasn’t as far gone for as long as grandmother before she finally passed on, but … Well, suffice it to say we’re all certain he’s better off now than he’s been in a long while.

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Author, artist, romantic, insomniac, exorcist, creative visionary, lover, and all-around-crazy-person.