I'm not even sad. Kind of jealous. That's the way to go. Doing what you love. Trying to reach a top speed in your jet car. Probably didn't even feel a thing.Former Mythbuster and land speed record holder Jessi Combs dies in jet-car crash
On the opposite end is my grandfather. 90 years old. Late stage alzheimer's. Pisses and shits himself all the time. Didn't even recognize his own son at his funeral. Remembers things in fits and broken fragments. I love the guy, but as far as I'm concerned, grandpa died years ago, and this is a walking corpse; a zombie that used to be grandpa. I suspect this will be my fate, but I hope not.
Yes, I've been in a rut since dad died. It's left an even bigger hole in my life than I thought it would. It's made me realize that dad was the only person that I looked forward to visiting with and talking to. Everyone else, I either deal with, put up with, endure, avoid, battle, or suffer with to some degree or another.
Don't worry about me though. I'll trudge through it and keep going, but if I see a meteor streaking toward me, or a pyroclastic lava flow, or a towering tidal wave about to crash on top of me, I'm not running. If anything I'll chuckle and say bout fucking time.