she got the urge for going so i had to let her go
a good night with sam and marlene in the park
it resulted in me facing things that i never really fully thought about or let mtself consciously realiza.
generally pushed aside as to not realize the pain.
this is normally something i would just sort of write about in my book, more recently this amazing blank book with gustav klimt's "the kiss' on the cover. but the conveniece of sam's lap top on my bed tonight sort swayed me in this direction, prehaps it's because one of you out there can offer something that will help me,
i have never really vocalized the feelings i have about my grandmother to anyone.
she was always sort of this.. abstract presence in my life, partly due to the fact that she was diagnosed with alzheimers when i was ... probably about 10;
before that she had lived in hyannis (cape cod) and i didnt really see her too much.
she always had these amazing stories.
she tended to repeat them quite often..
partly because of the early onset of the disease
but maybe because she really had something.. a lesson or just the sharing aspect to give to me and my cousins.
i particularly remember her always telling us this story about how when she was in school, she used to have to pick blueberries and sell them so that she could buy new school clothes for herself .
it never failed that when you went to her house, you would hear that story, and it sort of became an ongoing joke between us all..
but i cant help but think of her everytime i eat a blueberry, or when i see those infamous pictures of me when i was about three picking blueberries naked in her yard.
so much of her life has become oral tradition, mostly because she has digressed so much that she's forgotten to speak, let a lone swallow.
it warms my heart everytime i hear my dad tell stories about growing up on harding street in pittsfield, and all the crazy things my grandma used to do,
i got to thinking tonight about the last time i saw her.
it was two winters ago on my christmas break from school.
my dad and i drove up to pittsfield,
i remember sobbing, but trying to hide it because i didnt want my dad to see me like that. specifically because it was his mother.. and i knew how hard the whole situation was on him.
we joked with her nurse about how she was still such a good eater, my dad chocked it up to her being italian and we all sort of giggled.
i worry every day that i'm going to wake up and have a voicemail on my phone that she has passed away.
and i cant help but think about my dad.
i mean it's hard on all of us.
but .. to watch your mom-- such an amazing strong presence in your l;ife literally digress into an infant.
i cant even fathom.
i called natale tonight and told her that she had to promise me that she would drive me to the birkshires when i am home at christmas time so i can see my grandmother.
it's really all i want to do right now
and i hope that she lasts long enough for me to see her one more time.
i want to sit by her bed and tell her about all the things i have experienced in the past year or two.
living in ireland,
going to school in san francisco
just the little things that i wish she could be a part of.
i want to let her know that i still think about her constantly and that i havent forgotten her,
even if she doesnt know who i am anymore.
none of us really visit her too often, and i think it's because we all want to keep the memories that we have of her.
it's almost a denial thing.
i try to make a point not to cry in front of people.
i dont really know why,
but tonigth when marlene and i were out having out before-bed cigaretter, i told her, and i broke down
and it was the first time i had talked to anyone about the way i felt about this stuff
it felt sort of good,
but at the same time, i felt weak,
and almost exposed
it was weird
but anyway,
on that note, i think i am going to get going.
time to lay back in this crazy world of bunk beds and communal living space and catch some rest.
i love you all,.
it resulted in me facing things that i never really fully thought about or let mtself consciously realiza.
generally pushed aside as to not realize the pain.
this is normally something i would just sort of write about in my book, more recently this amazing blank book with gustav klimt's "the kiss' on the cover. but the conveniece of sam's lap top on my bed tonight sort swayed me in this direction, prehaps it's because one of you out there can offer something that will help me,
i have never really vocalized the feelings i have about my grandmother to anyone.
she was always sort of this.. abstract presence in my life, partly due to the fact that she was diagnosed with alzheimers when i was ... probably about 10;
before that she had lived in hyannis (cape cod) and i didnt really see her too much.
she always had these amazing stories.
she tended to repeat them quite often..
partly because of the early onset of the disease
but maybe because she really had something.. a lesson or just the sharing aspect to give to me and my cousins.
i particularly remember her always telling us this story about how when she was in school, she used to have to pick blueberries and sell them so that she could buy new school clothes for herself .
it never failed that when you went to her house, you would hear that story, and it sort of became an ongoing joke between us all..
but i cant help but think of her everytime i eat a blueberry, or when i see those infamous pictures of me when i was about three picking blueberries naked in her yard.
so much of her life has become oral tradition, mostly because she has digressed so much that she's forgotten to speak, let a lone swallow.
it warms my heart everytime i hear my dad tell stories about growing up on harding street in pittsfield, and all the crazy things my grandma used to do,
i got to thinking tonight about the last time i saw her.
it was two winters ago on my christmas break from school.
my dad and i drove up to pittsfield,
i remember sobbing, but trying to hide it because i didnt want my dad to see me like that. specifically because it was his mother.. and i knew how hard the whole situation was on him.
we joked with her nurse about how she was still such a good eater, my dad chocked it up to her being italian and we all sort of giggled.
i worry every day that i'm going to wake up and have a voicemail on my phone that she has passed away.
and i cant help but think about my dad.
i mean it's hard on all of us.
but .. to watch your mom-- such an amazing strong presence in your l;ife literally digress into an infant.
i cant even fathom.
i called natale tonight and told her that she had to promise me that she would drive me to the birkshires when i am home at christmas time so i can see my grandmother.
it's really all i want to do right now
and i hope that she lasts long enough for me to see her one more time.
i want to sit by her bed and tell her about all the things i have experienced in the past year or two.
living in ireland,
going to school in san francisco
just the little things that i wish she could be a part of.
i want to let her know that i still think about her constantly and that i havent forgotten her,
even if she doesnt know who i am anymore.
none of us really visit her too often, and i think it's because we all want to keep the memories that we have of her.
it's almost a denial thing.
i try to make a point not to cry in front of people.
i dont really know why,
but tonigth when marlene and i were out having out before-bed cigaretter, i told her, and i broke down
and it was the first time i had talked to anyone about the way i felt about this stuff
it felt sort of good,
but at the same time, i felt weak,
and almost exposed
it was weird
but anyway,
on that note, i think i am going to get going.
time to lay back in this crazy world of bunk beds and communal living space and catch some rest.
i love you all,.