Death, Dying and Nana's Bad Jokes

Well there's not too much going on around here lately. I've been knitting away and putting up stuff for my mother to take to Nana's. She's been in good spirits but I can already tell it's not going to be a long time before she goes. There's a odd sort of look to her lately, a weakness in her movements and her color has changed a lot. She's comfy though, no pain and that's what worried us most.

One thing I find odd about this process is the humor. Nana has always had a sort of "off" sense of humor for someone in her generation. Now that she's looking at the end of her life she's pulled all the stops as far as self editing goes.

Now, I find Nana's death jokes honestly funny. They are direct, observational, somewhat inappropriate, and flat out hilarious. My mother on the other hand finds them upsetting and morbid. She'll laugh at Nana's but then come home and cry.

I'm left to wonder if it's because I'm a generation removed or if it's because my sense of humor has always been very close to Nana's. My mom's always been a weeper and I'm more of a stewer. Is it possible the jokes aren't actually funny? I guess it doesn't matter as long as Nana thinks they are.

Oh yeah knitting. Have you noticed my current obsession with knitting hats? I think it's self-therapy. They're easy, quick, and they clear out the odd single balls of yarn from my stash. I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do with them all but they keep me busy when I get stressed out.