This is a photo of my brother, my grandma, and I from a Christmas in 2006. Since the photo, my grandma has passed away, and my brother...well we don't really talk.
It is always so interesting how much life can change from one day to the next, let alone one year to another. This photo tugs at my heart a little bit because it reminds me of the days when things were going "OK" with my family.
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I have fond memories of my grandma, and how much we got along really well before she got sick. I still remember the time that I was playing with her veins on her hand and I told her that her veins stuck out really bad...boy was she offended! She told me that that's what happens when you get older and you shouldn't make fun of things like that in an older person. I felt really bad, and from that day on I never played with the veins on her hand nor did I even really look at them because I was afraid to get scolded again. I love(d) her so much but when she was diagnosed with dementia I became afraid of her and became so distant with her and our relationship. It sounds awful, but when something bad happens to someone close to me, the only way I know how to cope with something like that is to back away. I knew then, that with this a type of illness that she could no longer "be there" mentally and she would eventually die from it. I realize I should have focused it more on her instead of being selfish and thinking about how it was affecting me. I should have then been thinking about how it was affecting her and how much it was going to change her life.
I remember this Christmas with her and how different it was because we as a family never celebrated Christmas morning with anyone but just the four of us and now we had grandma who at that time was pretty sick. Prior to Christmas my mom had asked if it was OK that grandma join and everyone was OK with it and I was alright with it but just nervous. I (like I mentioned above) was just afraid to be around her. I was afraid to be around her because she wasn't the grandma I knew...she barely knew me, and she barely knew what was going on anymore. I can't imagine what dementia is like (I already hate it so much when I forget small things now) and how lost she must have felt to not know who she really even was.
I know I lost my grandma a bit ago (2007) but I felt like I lost her when she got sick, but that is my fault. I do wish I could have spent more time with her and I should have visited her more often when I was able to. When I went away to college, I really wasn't able to see her much and didn't make the effort to visit her at the "elderly/nursing" home she was at. I did visit once or twice with my mom a bit before she passed away and I was scared to really see what my grandma had become. My grandma was physically there but mentally she was somewhere else, and that is probably one of the hardest things to see. Where did my grandma go? When we were there it was lunch time and it just depressed me watching my mom having to spoon feed my grandma. I wondered then and wonder now what it's like to have to do that; to have to watch and see the mother you once knew deteriorate into someone that was no longer there. I also wondered what it must have felt like to not be able to do anything for yourself. If my grandma knew she had to be fed like that, I think she would have been irate and refused to eat then to have someone feed her. My grandma was very much an independent person and hated it when someone did something for her.
Anyway, my mom and grandma were pretty close and I don't think I knew at all how much pain and sadness my mom was feeling at the time. I also know, that at that time I didn't want to see it...I just wanted to pretend that my grandma was fine, and this wasn't happening, and that she wasn't going to die.
When my grandma passed away it was the beginning of sophomore year of college, and I knew it was coming but I put it in the back of my mind. I remember walking back to my dorm room and getting the call from my dad telling me that grandma had passed away and that Greg, my brother, was going to get me soon so that we could head home. I remember not feeling anything (no emotion, no tears) about my grandma passing, but I remember being so angry that I was going to miss the football game with my boyfriend at that time. I know, I probably sound heartless, or was heartless back then, but you have to realize that emotions and death I struggle with. All my life I had felt like people went in and out of my life too fast, and I didn't know who was going to stay around and because of that when I knew something bad was going to happen, I emotionally shut myself down.
When I got home it was a strange mess. I hugged my mom and I could feel her pain but I didn't know how to help besides be quiet and make sure things were taken care of. The funeral was nice and I had shut down at that point, and I was simply there to say goodbye to my grandma and to make sure my mom was OK. She surprisingly didn't cry too much which made me nervous but I think this time (at my grandpa's funeral she cried a lot but I think this was due to his unexpected death--and that is another post in itself) she was knew that this was going to happen and I think mentally she was sort of prepared. During my stay home I felt like it was an out of body experience because I felt like this really wasn't happening, that this was all just a really bad nightmare. Instead, it was all very real, and I just kept my thoughts to myself and physically made sure I was there.
After all the funeral things were done, my brother and I were soon headed home. I was happy yet afraid to leave home because I knew my mom was changing. Losing her mom was the last of her parents, and losing her mom in general was a huge life event. I didn't know at the time but she had to go on anti-depressants just to feel better I guess but I don't know too much about this because I wasn't really around nor asked. I just remember her telling me that she had to get off of them because it made her feel worse and just more empty and "dead-like". My grandma passing away really changed my mom for a long time and for that time I kind of lost my mom at that point too because I didn't know how to help her and I was at a lost for words to soothe my mom's pain.
I don't think anyone to this day knows how scared and sad I was when all of this was happening. I probably seemed like a distant daughter throughout it all but the wheels were turning in my head. I was trying to (and at the same time not) grasp the concept of what was really happening with my grandma.
If anyone is reading this please don't judge me because of how I reacted and dealt with this at the time because we all handle emotions differently. I admit I had a great bought of "me-me-me" instead of focusing on my mom, my family, and my grandma at the time, but I didn't know how to deal with any of this. How does one deal with terminal illness and death?
I miss my grandma dearly. I will always remember my grandma. My grandma was a great person: she was selfless, she loved life, and she cared about everybody (plus she baked/made delicious food). The photo is our last picture and Christmas together before she passed away. It is sad to see how frail and sick she looked, yet that smile she had on her face was so genuine. Although she didn't know who we really were anymore (besides her kids, my mom) she was still happy to be apart of our celebrations. I will always remember her, and I'm sure she's happy being with my grandpa again.
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My brother and I were pretty close growing up but as soon as we both went away to college is when our relationship changed. When we went to school together, we probably saw each other probably less than a handful of times..yet he lived so close to me. The distant part is probably a great deal of my fault because I didn't make any effort but neither did he. What really changed our relationship was depression and anxiety controlling my life at that time. He was probably the only one in my family (freshman-junior year of college) that really knew what was going on, but I knew that he was also letting my parents in on what or how I was doing. I didn't like that feeling, and I also didn't like the feeling that I always had to call him or get in contact with him for us to talk at all. Then again, talking to my family since they knew about my depression has always been a "I have to initiate first" with them in order for them to talk to me. It's already anxiety ridden for me to speak with my family (not all the time), so for me to have to always initiate feels overwhelming and also like maybe they just don't care to talk to me. Why can't my brother or my parents call me sometime so I feel like they want to talk to me? I've always asked that question, never really gotten an answer but that's OK, I guess I have just learned to deal with it.
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This photo is a great one, but distant, happy memory.
"Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future."
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