(no subject)
It finally happened. Maybe I'm a hard person, because it took extra-high levels of female hormones and two years worth of erosion, but I finally cried about what's happening to my grandmother. The changes over the last few months have been pretty significant. She hardly talks anymore, and sometimes when she tries what she says doesn't make any sense. Yesterday she turned to me and said, "Is ... thuh-uh-uh-uh-uh ... thing?" For a second I couldn't help thinking about how awful it would be to have a thought in my head, open my mouth to speak, and have that come out. And I cried. Just for a minute. Then I got up and got a glass of water to see if I could get her to take a few sips. She doesn't drink much anymore, either, unless you cajole her.
Sometimes I muse about how strange it is that I, a person who for so long deliberately avoided assuming any significant responsibility, have so frequently found myself in the position of caregiver. Almost as if it were a vocation. I, who think carefully before acquiring a new plant, fer Crissakes, and am afraid to get a living, breathing pet, have helped care for my great-grandmother, my niece, and now my grandma. It's taken some time, but I do appreciate what I have learned and am still learning from this role. I am a better person because I do this. So I find it strange that people, hearing about the unhappy aspects of what I do, so often counsel me to quit. Do they think that because sometimes there is pain involved, that it should automatically be avoided? Maybe because of my history I am more accustomed to the idea of pain as a constant than are some people. Or maybe I am just more willing to accept it as an natural, inevitable part of life. And I am capable of feeling more than one thing at once. It is shouldering the burdens of this job with as much grace as I can muster, (more on some days than others), that makes the task fulfilling. And honestly, the biggest pain involved is when I feel that I have failed. But, what else have I ever done, or am I likely to do, that will be of greater value than this?
Still, there is pain and then there is pain; I don't think all pain is healthy. I've accepted some painful situations that could and should have been changed. But I definitely don't think heading for the door at the first sign something shitty is coming is the healthiest choice either. Not for me, anyway. I've done too much of that in my life, and it never made me any happier. I feel that for some time I've been developing the judgement that helps me make healthy decisions about when enough is enough. And it's not "enough" yet. But I know we're getting closer and closer, and that's part of what makes me so sad.
Sometimes I muse about how strange it is that I, a person who for so long deliberately avoided assuming any significant responsibility, have so frequently found myself in the position of caregiver. Almost as if it were a vocation. I, who think carefully before acquiring a new plant, fer Crissakes, and am afraid to get a living, breathing pet, have helped care for my great-grandmother, my niece, and now my grandma. It's taken some time, but I do appreciate what I have learned and am still learning from this role. I am a better person because I do this. So I find it strange that people, hearing about the unhappy aspects of what I do, so often counsel me to quit. Do they think that because sometimes there is pain involved, that it should automatically be avoided? Maybe because of my history I am more accustomed to the idea of pain as a constant than are some people. Or maybe I am just more willing to accept it as an natural, inevitable part of life. And I am capable of feeling more than one thing at once. It is shouldering the burdens of this job with as much grace as I can muster, (more on some days than others), that makes the task fulfilling. And honestly, the biggest pain involved is when I feel that I have failed. But, what else have I ever done, or am I likely to do, that will be of greater value than this?
Still, there is pain and then there is pain; I don't think all pain is healthy. I've accepted some painful situations that could and should have been changed. But I definitely don't think heading for the door at the first sign something shitty is coming is the healthiest choice either. Not for me, anyway. I've done too much of that in my life, and it never made me any happier. I feel that for some time I've been developing the judgement that helps me make healthy decisions about when enough is enough. And it's not "enough" yet. But I know we're getting closer and closer, and that's part of what makes me so sad.