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What I want from this, is to learn to let go |
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no, not of you, of all thats been told.
(rootless tree, damien rice) Really good song. Its how I'm feeling. And it has the f word in it, which makes it a really good angry upset song which is basically a summary of how i'm feeling.
My grandfather is dying. But hes been dying for a long time now. When discussing this with my family and friends, i used to be quite emotionless. It was just something that I knew he would eventually die, and the world would continue to turn. I thought I would always feel heartless about it, and quite frankly I wanted to feel heartless about it. My grandfather Bud died when I was 4 or 5. I don't remember him at all. But I think that if he were alive he would care about me, that he would know who I am, and what I am about. Alice (Bud's wife, my grandmother) absolutely knows me. She knows my name. She knows who I am. She knows my personality. Then here is this man, this grandfather, who has been in my life, my whole life. Lived down the road from me. My. Whole. Life. He doesn't know my name, he doesn't care who I am, and he doesn't care what my feelings are. I am completely interchangeable for one of my sisters. So am I bitter that this man, who could give a s**t, has managed to be my grandfather for so long, when I had this other grandfather who would have cared that I never got to know? It just seems completely unfair. And yes, I'm bitter.
I don't know this man. No, I take that back. I know one thing: he is a misogynist. As a tween/teen he once asked for my help with a 4-wheeler on the ranch, I gave him my tricks (as it was MY 4-wheeler) he then muttered under his breath "stupid woman" and stormed off because he didn't even want to TRY what I had told him would work. This is the one real memory I have of him. I was just forming as a young woman and he called me stupid for no apparent reason.
I should have other memories. He has been in the background of my life. We have always lived down the road. We spent many many many holidays at their house. He has been around. So why don't I remember anything? I don't remember any younger memories of perhaps when he wasn't so old and angry... Not one. I have been trying so hard. Trying to remember SOMETHING good. Some kind thing he did for me, some kind words he shared. I don't even remember TALKING to him. At all. All I remember is that one experience. No, I take that back, I occasionally remember him rolling down the window of his truck asking where my dad was. Thats about it.
I don't know him. I don't know what kind of father he was to my dad, I don't know what he has said or done to my mom as his daughter-in-law. I don't know if he was kinder to my sisters than he was to me. I don't know. From what I do know, he didn't treat my mom all that well because she was a strong independent woman. I guess he had moments of kindness or niceness or something, but I don't know those. I know that he has made my father run the ranch by himself, causing him to need a freaking hip replacement in his 50's. I know that I rarely saw my father as a young child as he was out working on the ranch, to run the ranch for this man who didn't not care one lick about our family. So there may be good memories for other people, perhaps for my dad, perhaps for the rest of my family. But there are none for me. I wish there were. I wish when I sit as his funeral some day I can have SOMETHING to remember, something good.
So with all this being said, why the f am I crying my eyes out right now? I've known my grandfather was sick for years now. He has congestive heart failure from his countless heart attacks. I'm a nurse. I take care of "CHF-ers" as we like to call them. I know the disease very well. Basically your heart is a muscle, and when you have a heart attack it weakens or even kills part of that muscle. So it can't beat properly or efficiently. So you get a back up of blood and generally you get lots of pneumonia due to the fluid on the lungs, and you have to be on tons of diuretics because you get so much swelling everywhere. So I've known that it would eventually kill him. He has good days and bad days, good months and bad months. Well this time, this time it seemed like it was the end. He was in the hospital AGAIN and I had to process AGAIN that he might die. (has anyone seen that grey's anatomy recently where the family keeps hopping on the plane to rush to the grandmother's side who keeps almost dying and then manages to live?) so ya, thats how I feel. Like it won't ever really happen. I think thats why I've managed to stay so heartless. Then this time, they said he needed to be in a nursing home or possibly go home with hospice. The H word. Hospice. This really got me. Maybe it is the end. I finally broke down and let myself feel something. Let myself try to sort through this abudance of feelings I'm having. But what am I feeling? Why am I so upset? I have no idea. I feel GUILTY for crying. I shouldn't cry over this man. Everyday people lose someone they truly love. I don't have the right to cry for someone I dont. I tell myself it is for my dad, my grandma, and all the people who did care for him. But I don't think thats entirely true. I think I'm crying cuz it hurts. I'm hurt by him, but I'm also hurt that hes dying. Hes still a person, and I don't know how to be heartless. I'm crying for me. I'm crying because I care. He is still my grandfather, and he is still dying, and it means something to me despite all of the reasons I hate him. I can hate him all I want, but hes still family, and I'm crying because I, personally, am sad. I think I just need to be okay with that, and let myself cry for him.
 Aeren · Fri Nov 13, 2009 @ 07:25pm · 0 Comments |
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