I’m going to go visit Grama B today. I’ll be leaving work to go home, pack, feed my kids, get everybody in the car, and then we are driving the 2 hours up north to get there around 5:30 pm. My friend gets home from work at that time, so I’m going to drop the kids off with her.
I’m writing this out so I can keep everything straight in my head. Right now it feels like I’m moving through water. Everything is slowed down, I’m not really seeing things clearly, it all feels a little fuzzy. I don’t feel like I’m very aware of things that are going on around me, I’m just following orders, going through the motions, getting by.
Last night I spoke with my parents. My mom cried. My dad said alot about hospice and transitioning to the “other side.” What is happening to Grama’s body functions, how my aunt and uncle are coping. How he feels he is in the right place to be there for them and for Grama. But still, that I should not come visit.
Well, I’m going anyway. I’m not going to announce to him that I’m coming, and I’m not going to seek out his permission, as I usually do for every other matter. When my mom had a stroke 2 years ago, he told us not to come. We came anyway. He thanked us afterwards and acknowledged the fact that he was wrong, that as it turned out, having us come did mom good and he was grateful we had come.
He’s not always right.
I feel he’s trying to protect me from seeing Grama that way. He said she is nothing but a shell of who she used to me. My husband’s grandmother and father died in the same year. I watched them slowly pass away in the hospital. He doesn’t need to shelter me from seeing her.
Last night I laid my head on the table and closed my eyes while my son sat eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He asked me to open my eyes, and when I told him I couldn’t right now, he graciously stepped away from the table and went upstairs to watch tv with my husband. I sat there with my face on the cold surface of the table, and I started to pray. I prayed for Allah to take the love I feel for Grama and to send it into her heart where she lay so that she can feel how much I love her. A few tears fell from my eyes then. I prayed some more, asking for God to cover me, shelter me, take away the tiredness I feel so I can be strong for tomorrow.
The rest of the night I sat at the computer, writing an email to my sisters to explain my conversation with Mom and Dad and report to them how Grama was doing. Afterwards, I could barely lift my arms to brush my teeth. I dragged myself up the stairs to my bed and laid down, feeling nothing but exhaustion. Thankfully, a few seconds later, I fell asleep.