Grief

When it all comes down, I think, barring major international incidents, that one of the most traumatic things in my life (so far), happened tonight.

My paternal grandmother had been suffering from various Alzheimers/dementia-related ailments for years now. This morning, things took a turn for the worse.

Mom and Dad went over to the nursing home several times today. My poor Dad, who is too soft-hearted to go deer hunting, sat with my other soft-hearted uncles watching Grandma pass to the next world all day. Mom called and asked me to go down to keep Grandpa company after work.

After finishing up at the flowershop, I ran to the grocery store to get Grandpa something to eat. As he is 90, and doesn't give a damn about cholesterol, I got him fried chicken and Old Style Light- beer, nectar of the Gods and the Chicago Cubs- for supper.

Along with one of my cousins, we sat with Grandpa, knowing that as it was 8:30 at night, and we hadn't heard anything, no good news would be along shortly. We looked at old pictures- my Dad and his siblings had a pet duck and squirrel, named "Duck" and "Squirrel," natch- and listened to Grandpa talk about WWII, and how he was terrified of Crocodiles when he was stationed in Australia.

Periodically, Grandpa would say, "I guess that Mom has taken a turn for the worse." I didn't know what to say. I thought, the grandma that taught me to sew, embroider, and about flowers is dying in a god-forsaken nursing home, having not recognized anyone who loves her for the past 3 years. She is surrounded by her children, yet, they might as well be workers, because she knows them not. Her husband of 60+ years sits in their home, wringing his hands, because he's too fragile to watch the transition. Again, I didn't know what to say.

As I sit here, drying my tears, I know, intellectually, that my grandma is better off, wherever people go when they leave this plane of existence. I know this, in my mind.

But what I weep for is that she never got to know her great-grandchildren, see most of her grandchildren married, graduate from college, etc.... That the last time that Grandpa saw her, she didn't know who he was, her husband that she sent off to war, pregnant with their first child. Her husband that she raised four children with. Her husband that stood with her when their little boy died of SIDS.

I wish, that somehow, the last time I saw my Grandma, before the disease took hold, I could remember that I told her that I loved her. I'm sure that I did, but still....And that, somehow, in the depths of her illness, that she remembered that. Even now.