What's Up
I have absolutely no close experience with death. I’ve been tremendously lucky that way. None of my close family has even had serious (I mean really serious) health problems since before I was old enough to understand.
That’s about to change. It already has changed in a way. Whether this is going to end next week, next month, or even later than that, we don’t quite know yet, but… Grampy is really, really sick. This has only gotten serious in the past two weeks, and I… what can I say? He looks, physically, like a totally different person than the grandfather I’ve always known. We think it’s almost certainly bone cancer, something Grammy was dreading, because it’s so, so painful.
I know this is something every family has to cope with. And that’s what you do - you deal. Things are never going to be the same. I went through periods this weekend, especially when my help was needed, of being able to take it in and get on with life. Every now and then, though, especially watching one of the strongest people I know just try to walk across a room, I felt like there was nothing I wanted more than to run out of the house and hide. I wouldn’t say I’ve quite gotten to the metaphysical crisis yet, but it does leave me feeling… well, hopeless.
I’m not sure whether or not I’m glad that we don’t know exactly what’s coming. It might scare me more if I knew, but then, I also had so say goodbye to Grampy today thinking that it might be the last time I ever saw him. And he doesn’t know this yet, so I couldn’t let on. Maybe it would be best that way. It would certainly mean far less suffering for him, and in some ways I think I’d rather remember him like that - in his bed in Digby - than in some hospital bed.
For now, though, waiting is the only option. I wish I could make sense of this. I wish I could take away even a little of Grampy’s excruciating pain. I wish Mom was around to go to, though I know she had to stay with him, and I wish I wasn’t the only grandchild in the vicinity. This didn’t really become to real to me until I saw Grampy on Friday, and so I feel kind of like I’m the only one who really knows, and I want Kacy, Karen, and Rod to cry with. Karen, if you read this and you have time, please call. I’d just like to talk.
That’s about to change. It already has changed in a way. Whether this is going to end next week, next month, or even later than that, we don’t quite know yet, but… Grampy is really, really sick. This has only gotten serious in the past two weeks, and I… what can I say? He looks, physically, like a totally different person than the grandfather I’ve always known. We think it’s almost certainly bone cancer, something Grammy was dreading, because it’s so, so painful.
I know this is something every family has to cope with. And that’s what you do - you deal. Things are never going to be the same. I went through periods this weekend, especially when my help was needed, of being able to take it in and get on with life. Every now and then, though, especially watching one of the strongest people I know just try to walk across a room, I felt like there was nothing I wanted more than to run out of the house and hide. I wouldn’t say I’ve quite gotten to the metaphysical crisis yet, but it does leave me feeling… well, hopeless.
I’m not sure whether or not I’m glad that we don’t know exactly what’s coming. It might scare me more if I knew, but then, I also had so say goodbye to Grampy today thinking that it might be the last time I ever saw him. And he doesn’t know this yet, so I couldn’t let on. Maybe it would be best that way. It would certainly mean far less suffering for him, and in some ways I think I’d rather remember him like that - in his bed in Digby - than in some hospital bed.
For now, though, waiting is the only option. I wish I could make sense of this. I wish I could take away even a little of Grampy’s excruciating pain. I wish Mom was around to go to, though I know she had to stay with him, and I wish I wasn’t the only grandchild in the vicinity. This didn’t really become to real to me until I saw Grampy on Friday, and so I feel kind of like I’m the only one who really knows, and I want Kacy, Karen, and Rod to cry with. Karen, if you read this and you have time, please call. I’d just like to talk.