Tonight I am feeling guilty. It has been a week since my last visit with my grandmother, and will be another week and a half until I get to see her again. We are leaving for San Diego in a few days for a quick get away to see two of my best friends. And I feel guilty. Rather than excited and happy to take my kids on vacation, I am feel bad about the amount of time that passes between visits.
As much as I would like to be there with her, playing Scrabble and cards and having lunch with her, I have my own family now and businesses and things that need my attention. I feel a bit like I've abandoned her, pushed her into a nursing home against her will. I think I should be there more, and I can't, and no matter how logically I approach this, I still wind up feeling terrible about it.
Life goes on. This a phrase that keeps going through my head. She had her kids, and her kids had kids, and now I have my kids. There are only so many hours in a day and for me, my kids have to be my priority now. And I know that she understands this. It just makes me sad for her. And for me.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Hoping for peace
Today felt long and full. When I finally sat down, I felt like a machine shutting off, like a noisy washing machine spinning the clothes one last time, slowly draining the water and sitting silently, taking it all in.
My mom and I took two of the kids with us to see my grandmother this afternoon. In many ways it was a good visit: she was sitting in her wheelchair in the hallway when we got there talking with one of the other ladies, she looked genuinely very pleased to see us, she looked clean and did not seem overly tired, the kids mostly behaved. And then the not so good: when Maggie pushed her in her wheel chair and asked her where she'd like to go she said home. Maggie looked confused. She said, but Mommy said this is your home, that you live here now. My grandma agreed that she does, but that she doesn't like it. I asked my grandma if she could show Maggie the restaurant she eats in (the dining room) and she said yes and Maggie wheeled her that way and that seemed to smooth things over. We sat in the lobby a little bit, chatting with some of the other residents and their families a little before we left. I gave her a big hug and kiss when I left and told her I loved her. And I do.
I feel guilty that I can not do more. I always assumed that when she got old that she would come and live with me. We have always been very close and it just seemed logical. And then I had three kids. And she developed Alzheimer's. And everything I thought I knew about how my grandmother's last years would be spent had to be rethought. This is certainly not how I thought things would play out. I hold out hope I guess, that things don't get worse, that she finds some happiness where she is, and that she can maybe find a little peace within herself while she is still here.
My mom and I took two of the kids with us to see my grandmother this afternoon. In many ways it was a good visit: she was sitting in her wheelchair in the hallway when we got there talking with one of the other ladies, she looked genuinely very pleased to see us, she looked clean and did not seem overly tired, the kids mostly behaved. And then the not so good: when Maggie pushed her in her wheel chair and asked her where she'd like to go she said home. Maggie looked confused. She said, but Mommy said this is your home, that you live here now. My grandma agreed that she does, but that she doesn't like it. I asked my grandma if she could show Maggie the restaurant she eats in (the dining room) and she said yes and Maggie wheeled her that way and that seemed to smooth things over. We sat in the lobby a little bit, chatting with some of the other residents and their families a little before we left. I gave her a big hug and kiss when I left and told her I loved her. And I do.
I feel guilty that I can not do more. I always assumed that when she got old that she would come and live with me. We have always been very close and it just seemed logical. And then I had three kids. And she developed Alzheimer's. And everything I thought I knew about how my grandmother's last years would be spent had to be rethought. This is certainly not how I thought things would play out. I hold out hope I guess, that things don't get worse, that she finds some happiness where she is, and that she can maybe find a little peace within herself while she is still here.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Lists
I think when I am truly happy in my life is when I feel things are in balance. When I am able to give to my family and my businesses and my friends and still find time for myself. When my house is clean and the laundry's done and all the kids' hair is washed and brushed. When I have no unreturned emails or phone calls or texts. I am not a list maker, not a pen to paper kind, but I feel I always have this internal list of what needs to be done in any given day or week. It's something that drives Josh crazy, that I never actually write anything down. Not appointments or work schedule or lunch dates or grocery lists. Nothing. I used to make Christmas gift lists, but I think I just liked how my handwriting looked on unlined paper when I chose to write extra neatly.
The next few weeks seem extra busy, doctors appointments and dentists appointments, a trip to Beacon and a visit with my grandma, a trip to Long Island, San Diego at the end of the month and of course the everyday things that sometimes seem so overwhelming like homework and making dinner and matching up socks. And trying find time to spend at each of the restaurants.
But it's all good stuff. So who am I to complain that my life is too busy with really wonderful things? Only a fool would do that, and I'm no fool.
The next few weeks seem extra busy, doctors appointments and dentists appointments, a trip to Beacon and a visit with my grandma, a trip to Long Island, San Diego at the end of the month and of course the everyday things that sometimes seem so overwhelming like homework and making dinner and matching up socks. And trying find time to spend at each of the restaurants.
But it's all good stuff. So who am I to complain that my life is too busy with really wonderful things? Only a fool would do that, and I'm no fool.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Allison
Missing someone who has died seems to hit me at the most unexpected of times. I was on the train this morning and glanced to my right and there was a girl, with great hair and strong eyebrows, a faint smile on her face while she listened to whatever was on the other end of her headphones. And my eyes filled with tears.
In December it will be three years since we lost our Allison. If I live everyday of the rest of my life making a concerted effort to be a good person, I will not be half as great as Allison was. Some people just have a light inside of them, a warmth that can be felt whenever they are near. She was one of those people.
She was a dancer and a dreamer, a sister and a daughter and an amazing cousin. She danced on stage and through life with a gentleness and ease about her. She had a beautiful spirit. Truly there was no one that didn't like Allison. She was just one of those people.
Three years ago she was studying dance in Cuba. She was happy and had a boyfriend and checked in back home. We all missed her and thought she was crazy for going, but that was Allison. Determined to follow her own path in life, she went to India when she was 16. There was no stopping Al.
I had just finished working a rather difficult brunch shift on a Saturday. I stayed a little late and Josh was waiting for me in the car at the corner. When I opened the door his face looked strange and I assumed he was annoyed for having to wait. I started to explain that we'd been really busy, but he stopped me. And he told me. And I just kept repeating over and over again, I don't understand, I don't understand. She fell ill on a Wednesday and by Saturday she slipped away. That fast. And she was gone.
We talk about her often in our house. The first spring that she was gone my mom planted some fruit trees at her house and called them Allison's trees. The loss of her, so sudden and unexpected, has greatly impacted how I live my life today. Shortly after she passed we decided to have a third child. I started working less and spending more time with my family. My priorities changed. I missed her going away party and her birthday party because I was working. I just assumed I'd see her when she got back from Cuba. I've learned to not assume I will always get another day with someone I love. And I try everyday to let the people in my live know how very much I love them.
In December it will be three years since we lost our Allison. If I live everyday of the rest of my life making a concerted effort to be a good person, I will not be half as great as Allison was. Some people just have a light inside of them, a warmth that can be felt whenever they are near. She was one of those people.
She was a dancer and a dreamer, a sister and a daughter and an amazing cousin. She danced on stage and through life with a gentleness and ease about her. She had a beautiful spirit. Truly there was no one that didn't like Allison. She was just one of those people.
Three years ago she was studying dance in Cuba. She was happy and had a boyfriend and checked in back home. We all missed her and thought she was crazy for going, but that was Allison. Determined to follow her own path in life, she went to India when she was 16. There was no stopping Al.
I had just finished working a rather difficult brunch shift on a Saturday. I stayed a little late and Josh was waiting for me in the car at the corner. When I opened the door his face looked strange and I assumed he was annoyed for having to wait. I started to explain that we'd been really busy, but he stopped me. And he told me. And I just kept repeating over and over again, I don't understand, I don't understand. She fell ill on a Wednesday and by Saturday she slipped away. That fast. And she was gone.
We talk about her often in our house. The first spring that she was gone my mom planted some fruit trees at her house and called them Allison's trees. The loss of her, so sudden and unexpected, has greatly impacted how I live my life today. Shortly after she passed we decided to have a third child. I started working less and spending more time with my family. My priorities changed. I missed her going away party and her birthday party because I was working. I just assumed I'd see her when she got back from Cuba. I've learned to not assume I will always get another day with someone I love. And I try everyday to let the people in my live know how very much I love them.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Everything changes
When we got in the car I turned to my mom and said, "I consider that a successful visit." I explained that this visit reinforced my belief that she is in the right place.
And that's how I measure a good visit now. Not if she's happy or remembers things well or is doing tricks in her wheel chair in the hallway (which has never happened but it would be cool if it did). That would be too painful for me. I need to just know in my heart that our family made the right decision based on loving her and wanting what's best for her.
She was moved to the big dining room (which she refers to as a very nice restaurant) and has a new table mate, a nice woman in similar condition to her. It was really nice to get see a part of their daily routine today. My uncle was there, having lunch with my grandma, and it reminded me of how many lunches we shared together when I was growing up. My uncle's trucking company was behind my grandparent's house and often if he was working in the garage that day he would join us for lunch.
It made me smile today, to think about life, always moving and changing, never one day exactly like the last, yet today could be so similar to a day twenty years ago, in the details.
Everything changes. And tonight I'm okay with that.
Friday, October 4, 2013
Packages full of care and candy
I know that when my grandmother dies I will be devastated, but I will not have regret. I see her as much as my schedule will allow. I put together a little care package for my mother to give to her, since I won't see her until Tuesday. It's hard to know what to send, since Alzheimer's and depression have robbed her of any interest in anything it seems.
In the package I put two kinds of licorice, yogurt covered raisins, tons of pictures and a teddy bear I gave her when I was 10 and that she gave back to me a few years ago. My mom visited her today and brought her package and reported back to me that my grandmother loved it! I am feeling very encouraged by her enthusiasm and am looking forward to picking up a few things this weekend to start another package for her.
While going through photos to send her it really hit home to me how close we've been my entire life. My second birthday, my ballet recital in first grade, sitting on the couch with her at our house in Monroe with my cat Rusty after one of our many dinner dates, and of course, pictures of us playing Scrabble. We have spent hundreds of hours over our lifetime of friendship together playing Scrabble. It has been a privilege to play with her and tonight I am feeling hopeful that maybe we will break the tiles and board out once again.
In the package I put two kinds of licorice, yogurt covered raisins, tons of pictures and a teddy bear I gave her when I was 10 and that she gave back to me a few years ago. My mom visited her today and brought her package and reported back to me that my grandmother loved it! I am feeling very encouraged by her enthusiasm and am looking forward to picking up a few things this weekend to start another package for her.
While going through photos to send her it really hit home to me how close we've been my entire life. My second birthday, my ballet recital in first grade, sitting on the couch with her at our house in Monroe with my cat Rusty after one of our many dinner dates, and of course, pictures of us playing Scrabble. We have spent hundreds of hours over our lifetime of friendship together playing Scrabble. It has been a privilege to play with her and tonight I am feeling hopeful that maybe we will break the tiles and board out once again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)