LJ Idol 10 - “If you have come here to help me, you are wasting our time”
Dear Joan,
Well, I know it's been a long time since I last wrote you. I'm sorry that it's been such a long time, but you know, life can get crazy. We have been doing well - the kids are doing great, busy with their own activities. You know how it is, of course. I did want to tell you what's been going on with Grandma.
Oh, Joan, it's been so hard to watch her. You know how she was always so independent when we were kids. How if any one of us kids sassed her she'd take us out back and show us what she was made of. Us kids probably still have some marks on our backsides from the switches that she'd take to us. She doesn't even seem like the same person sometimes.
Some of it is par for the course, you know. When you have an older parent or grandparent, the decline starts. But with Grandma, it just seemed to happen so fast. For a while she was still playing cards with Dolores, Ruby and Martha, but she stopped a few months ago. She said she didn't care for Martha anymore! I have no idea why she would say that. I mean, my goodness, Joan. They'd been friends for fifty years or more.
We've tried to get her involved with some of the senior groups out here, but she doesn't want to. Says it takes too much work. She would rather sit home and look at her programs on TV, see what's going on with the Quartermaines on General Hospital. The other day she started talking about Scott, Kevin and Lucy like they were real people. In fact, she started telling me about how Lucy always ends up in her underwear at the ball, and I didn't even know that she was talking about General Hospital. She thinks they're real. She was talking about Dr. Wexler yesterday. When I asked her who Dr. Wexler was, she said, "You don't know that nice young doctor Karen Wexler?" I came home and I looked her up on Google, and she's a character too! She doesn't know the difference anymore, Joan.
Well, Joan, I decided to talk to Anne the other day, and we both made a decision that we'd go talk to her about moving into a home or at the very least, getting a caretaker to come in a few times a week to look in on her. There's only so much that Anne and I can do. I wish that Mom and Dad were still here to help, but that's a moot point. You should have heard her carry on.
She doesn't believe that there's anything wrong with her, Joan. She can't admit that she needs help, and that she's putting herself in danger living on her own. She hasn't taken her cholesterol pills in months. Anne called the pharmacy - you know, because she's power of attorney and all - and she hasn't refilled them since last August. Nine months, Joan!
But like I was saying, Anne and I tried to talk to her the other day. And she got so angry at us both. She slammed her tea cup down on the table and said, "If you've come here to help me, you're wasting our time." OUR time. Not just hers, but OURS. And then she said that she didn't need any help and told us to leave.
I just wanted to let you know what's going on with her, Joan. If you can make it up here to visit sometime, it sure would be nice to see you. And maybe she'll listen to you if you tell her the same things. You were always her favorite. Don't deny it, you know that it's true.
All we can do now is wait. Maybe eventually Anne and I will make some leeway with her, but she's so stubborn that she'd tell you the sky is green and the grass is blue until you agree out of frustration. I just don't see that happening. It's time to get ready to say goodbye.
Love,
your sister Louise
Dear Louise,
I'm sorry to hear about Grandma. Unfortunately, Tom and I are so busy with our own jobs and kids that we aren't going to be able to come down anytime soon. Heather is head cheerleader this year, Joey is captain of his Jay Vee football team, and Melinda and Marcella are busy with their ballet and tap. Life often gets in the way, and I'm sure you can understand. I would rather just remember her the way she was than to see this sad, pathetic shell that you're telling me about. That's not the grandmother that I remember, and I would prefer not to be privy to her decline.
My best,
Joan
Well, I know it's been a long time since I last wrote you. I'm sorry that it's been such a long time, but you know, life can get crazy. We have been doing well - the kids are doing great, busy with their own activities. You know how it is, of course. I did want to tell you what's been going on with Grandma.
Oh, Joan, it's been so hard to watch her. You know how she was always so independent when we were kids. How if any one of us kids sassed her she'd take us out back and show us what she was made of. Us kids probably still have some marks on our backsides from the switches that she'd take to us. She doesn't even seem like the same person sometimes.
Some of it is par for the course, you know. When you have an older parent or grandparent, the decline starts. But with Grandma, it just seemed to happen so fast. For a while she was still playing cards with Dolores, Ruby and Martha, but she stopped a few months ago. She said she didn't care for Martha anymore! I have no idea why she would say that. I mean, my goodness, Joan. They'd been friends for fifty years or more.
We've tried to get her involved with some of the senior groups out here, but she doesn't want to. Says it takes too much work. She would rather sit home and look at her programs on TV, see what's going on with the Quartermaines on General Hospital. The other day she started talking about Scott, Kevin and Lucy like they were real people. In fact, she started telling me about how Lucy always ends up in her underwear at the ball, and I didn't even know that she was talking about General Hospital. She thinks they're real. She was talking about Dr. Wexler yesterday. When I asked her who Dr. Wexler was, she said, "You don't know that nice young doctor Karen Wexler?" I came home and I looked her up on Google, and she's a character too! She doesn't know the difference anymore, Joan.
Well, Joan, I decided to talk to Anne the other day, and we both made a decision that we'd go talk to her about moving into a home or at the very least, getting a caretaker to come in a few times a week to look in on her. There's only so much that Anne and I can do. I wish that Mom and Dad were still here to help, but that's a moot point. You should have heard her carry on.
She doesn't believe that there's anything wrong with her, Joan. She can't admit that she needs help, and that she's putting herself in danger living on her own. She hasn't taken her cholesterol pills in months. Anne called the pharmacy - you know, because she's power of attorney and all - and she hasn't refilled them since last August. Nine months, Joan!
But like I was saying, Anne and I tried to talk to her the other day. And she got so angry at us both. She slammed her tea cup down on the table and said, "If you've come here to help me, you're wasting our time." OUR time. Not just hers, but OURS. And then she said that she didn't need any help and told us to leave.
I just wanted to let you know what's going on with her, Joan. If you can make it up here to visit sometime, it sure would be nice to see you. And maybe she'll listen to you if you tell her the same things. You were always her favorite. Don't deny it, you know that it's true.
All we can do now is wait. Maybe eventually Anne and I will make some leeway with her, but she's so stubborn that she'd tell you the sky is green and the grass is blue until you agree out of frustration. I just don't see that happening. It's time to get ready to say goodbye.
Love,
your sister Louise
Dear Louise,
I'm sorry to hear about Grandma. Unfortunately, Tom and I are so busy with our own jobs and kids that we aren't going to be able to come down anytime soon. Heather is head cheerleader this year, Joey is captain of his Jay Vee football team, and Melinda and Marcella are busy with their ballet and tap. Life often gets in the way, and I'm sure you can understand. I would rather just remember her the way she was than to see this sad, pathetic shell that you're telling me about. That's not the grandmother that I remember, and I would prefer not to be privy to her decline.
My best,
Joan