Dec 27, 2016 03:02
I have come so far.
As a person, as a soul inside of a body.
When I first wrote in this little corner of the internet, I needed an outlet. And my home life was so unstable, I felt unsafe 90% of the time. I knew that writing my thoughts down was dangerous. Was a risk.
Now, years later...I have a home. I've lived here for two years now, comfortably and safely. Sure, it's a basement (Sue and Ella's, to be precise) and sure, I don't have 100% freedom here. But it's a good place, a calm place. I finally have found some semblance of peace.
I went to Europe. I traveled there for 2 months, through 10 countries. I've been to Canada twice now. I've lived a polyamorous lifestyle for two years, and learned what it means to love myself, and to love someone else without possessing them. It has been transformative and beautiful.
My grandmother is dying.
I haven't figured out how to deal with it. I just shrug. Sigh deeply. Tonight, my Grandpa cried. He put her to bed, helped her with every step. Helped setup her oxygen. Then he came back to the living room, and he cried. We talked about his sister Violet, who passed away many years ago. I don't remember her at all. We talked about my travels, and life. My Grandpa called me wise.
We talked about how afraid he is. How he doesn't know what to do. How he is watching my Gram fade away. How overwhelmed he is trying to make sure she takes the right meds, eats the right food. How he is terrified to leave her alone at the house, so doing errands is increasingly hard.
How she used to balance the checkbook and pay the bills. She can't remember how and he is just now learning how to do these things.
I had no idea what to say. My heart was breaking. But I had no words. None at all. What can you say?? There is no comfort to give, no "it gets better" to be said. His wife is dying and he knows it. And she's been "dying" for some time now. No one knows how long we have left with her. She's a tough woman.
You know she was my Kenpo sensei when i was a kid? This woman was the first person who taught me that it's okay for a girl to know how to throw a good punch, to stand up for myself. And that you are never too old to learn that. She was 59 when she got her sensei degree.
I feel like I have done so much, grown so much, come so far. And I still have no idea what to say or how to react or how to handle this.