"A" for Grandmother
About five years ago, it became impossible for the family to get together on any occasion. I am from a large family, and even my immediate brothers and sisters have so many issues that they have all become "podlike" entities, separate, but related.
I live in Atlanta, GA while they exist in a small suburb of Columbus, OH.
Living in Atlanta is good for me as it maintains my sanity.
I make frequent trips up North, not for the bulk of them mind you, mostly for my grandmother. She is truly the most wonderful woman on the planet, and let me tell you, it's not just because she is my grandmother either. She is just an extremely kind, thoughtful woman. I stay with her when I visit due to other family complications, but it's actually the most wonderful place to be.
A wakes up super early, so by the time I wrestle out of bed the coffee is going and she's usually done with her breakfast (oatmeal, because it's good for her), listening to the oldies and munching on some fruit while she looks over the paper. This is our time of the day. No matter where I end up, how late I stay over my brothers tonight, this is our moment. We talk about everything for several hours generally before I will even shower and consider catching up with someone else in the family. She is 90, and does all her own books, laundry, and grocery shopping with my uncle. She is slow to ask for help, and in tune with every detail.
She tells me stories of my grandfather, catches me up with my relatives, tells me about her latest doctors appointments.
A has had several strokes in the last few years. Unfortunately, she can no longer drive due to some of the medication that she is taking. With her loss of freedom from driving she has dealt with having to ask her children and grandchildren to get her around for her chores, her weekly hair "doo" and the like. It's not the happiest place for her and she is comfortable enough to share it with me even if it is extremely painful for me to hear that she is unhappy.
Before I left A, I bought a basket with flowers planted inside of it. They were bright and cheery and I wanted her to think of me when she saw them. I hated the look on her face when I said goodbye. She looked so sad, and so was I.
I live in Atlanta, GA while they exist in a small suburb of Columbus, OH.
Living in Atlanta is good for me as it maintains my sanity.
I make frequent trips up North, not for the bulk of them mind you, mostly for my grandmother. She is truly the most wonderful woman on the planet, and let me tell you, it's not just because she is my grandmother either. She is just an extremely kind, thoughtful woman. I stay with her when I visit due to other family complications, but it's actually the most wonderful place to be.
A wakes up super early, so by the time I wrestle out of bed the coffee is going and she's usually done with her breakfast (oatmeal, because it's good for her), listening to the oldies and munching on some fruit while she looks over the paper. This is our time of the day. No matter where I end up, how late I stay over my brothers tonight, this is our moment. We talk about everything for several hours generally before I will even shower and consider catching up with someone else in the family. She is 90, and does all her own books, laundry, and grocery shopping with my uncle. She is slow to ask for help, and in tune with every detail.
She tells me stories of my grandfather, catches me up with my relatives, tells me about her latest doctors appointments.
A has had several strokes in the last few years. Unfortunately, she can no longer drive due to some of the medication that she is taking. With her loss of freedom from driving she has dealt with having to ask her children and grandchildren to get her around for her chores, her weekly hair "doo" and the like. It's not the happiest place for her and she is comfortable enough to share it with me even if it is extremely painful for me to hear that she is unhappy.
Before I left A, I bought a basket with flowers planted inside of it. They were bright and cheery and I wanted her to think of me when she saw them. I hated the look on her face when I said goodbye. She looked so sad, and so was I.
posted by nicky at 5/04/2005 10:38:00 PM
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