(no subject)
Grandpa is in the hospital again. /sigh
Not many people grow up with their great-grandparents around. It always felt weird to be around other people who didn't have theirs. My dad's mom's mom died when I was very little. 2 years old I think? I kind of remember her, but mostly just this little thing she used to do to make me giggle. And I remember when she died people talking about it as if I wouldn't understand. It was the first time I remember someone dying. She's buried in Spokane. Strangely enough when we moved to Spokane and my mom and her ex bought a house we lived across the street from the cemetery. Sometimes I would go over there and look for he headstone not knowing where to find her. I don't remember her face. Isn't that weird? I mean grandma had a picture of her mom out for years and then it just wasn't there anymore and that's the only image I remember of her.
Mom's dad's parents were both diabetic and lived in Portland. She had beautiful red hair and he played the organ. I remember going to their 50th anniversary party when I was tiny. They had five sons and each of those sons had a handful of kids. But my grandfather (their middle son) was killed in a car accident seven years before I was born. They kind of stopped having much to do with mom and her siblings after that so I wasn't around them much. The last time I saw them I was eleven. Nell and Ben. They always used to send me money on my birthday until I turned 12. A dollar for every year old. And I was the oldest of loads of great-grandkids. They had 5 sons, 26 grandchildren... so you can imagine how big that family is. When grandpa passed away I think I was... 21? I remember it was around the time I went to Germany... or the spring before. Then grandma passed the following year. A woman showed up at her funeral and told my great-uncle that she'd been grandpa's mistress for YEARS and paid her condolences. She had pictures and news clippings about our family and felt like they needed to know.
Mom's mom's mom I was always closest to. I have her eyes and her jaw. Her thin lips. She wore Chanel No.5 and she ... gah now I'm starting to cry. I miss her. She's the one person in my life who has died that does this to me. We'd play Rumikub and she'd crochet while we watched Wheel of Fortune. She was always amazed at how good I was at figuring the puzzles out. She always had tabloids by her chair. Every once in a while she'd clip The Family Circus (err is is Circle?) from the newspaper for me because the little ponytail girl reminded her of me. The last real amount of time we had together she took me shopping and I dragged her all over the mall back home. I didn't want to buy anything for some reason when normally I loved being doted on by my gramma. It was the spring before we went to Germany and I knew. I just knew deep in my heart if I went overseas I was never going to see her again. She'd begun to forget things and it scared me but Nana (her daughter, my grandmother) wouldn't listen to me. The last time I talked to her was in December of 2001. She'd fallen and broken her hip and was in the hospital. She thought I was my mother when I called. No matter how much I tried to explain to her it was me she just didn't remember me. She died on January 2nd, 2002. I was halfway around the world and I couldn't be there with the rest of my family to grieve. I envy them the closure they were able to have. Whenever I smell Chanel No.5 I think of my grandma. I hate that smell.
And now her husband, my great-grandpa, is in the hospital again. With pneumonia. And he now has a third type of cancer. He'll be 95 next month. I think... there-abouts anyway. I'm scared. I mean I don't want him to live forever, we all know that isn't realistic. But it's like... waiting in the doctor's office. You know you're going to get called back soon but how soon... and how am I going to deal? But I called him and he sounded good. He was happy to hear me and he knew who I was and asked about Monk. I just don't know how to deal with all this waiting.
Not many people grow up with their great-grandparents around. It always felt weird to be around other people who didn't have theirs. My dad's mom's mom died when I was very little. 2 years old I think? I kind of remember her, but mostly just this little thing she used to do to make me giggle. And I remember when she died people talking about it as if I wouldn't understand. It was the first time I remember someone dying. She's buried in Spokane. Strangely enough when we moved to Spokane and my mom and her ex bought a house we lived across the street from the cemetery. Sometimes I would go over there and look for he headstone not knowing where to find her. I don't remember her face. Isn't that weird? I mean grandma had a picture of her mom out for years and then it just wasn't there anymore and that's the only image I remember of her.
Mom's dad's parents were both diabetic and lived in Portland. She had beautiful red hair and he played the organ. I remember going to their 50th anniversary party when I was tiny. They had five sons and each of those sons had a handful of kids. But my grandfather (their middle son) was killed in a car accident seven years before I was born. They kind of stopped having much to do with mom and her siblings after that so I wasn't around them much. The last time I saw them I was eleven. Nell and Ben. They always used to send me money on my birthday until I turned 12. A dollar for every year old. And I was the oldest of loads of great-grandkids. They had 5 sons, 26 grandchildren... so you can imagine how big that family is. When grandpa passed away I think I was... 21? I remember it was around the time I went to Germany... or the spring before. Then grandma passed the following year. A woman showed up at her funeral and told my great-uncle that she'd been grandpa's mistress for YEARS and paid her condolences. She had pictures and news clippings about our family and felt like they needed to know.
Mom's mom's mom I was always closest to. I have her eyes and her jaw. Her thin lips. She wore Chanel No.5 and she ... gah now I'm starting to cry. I miss her. She's the one person in my life who has died that does this to me. We'd play Rumikub and she'd crochet while we watched Wheel of Fortune. She was always amazed at how good I was at figuring the puzzles out. She always had tabloids by her chair. Every once in a while she'd clip The Family Circus (err is is Circle?) from the newspaper for me because the little ponytail girl reminded her of me. The last real amount of time we had together she took me shopping and I dragged her all over the mall back home. I didn't want to buy anything for some reason when normally I loved being doted on by my gramma. It was the spring before we went to Germany and I knew. I just knew deep in my heart if I went overseas I was never going to see her again. She'd begun to forget things and it scared me but Nana (her daughter, my grandmother) wouldn't listen to me. The last time I talked to her was in December of 2001. She'd fallen and broken her hip and was in the hospital. She thought I was my mother when I called. No matter how much I tried to explain to her it was me she just didn't remember me. She died on January 2nd, 2002. I was halfway around the world and I couldn't be there with the rest of my family to grieve. I envy them the closure they were able to have. Whenever I smell Chanel No.5 I think of my grandma. I hate that smell.
And now her husband, my great-grandpa, is in the hospital again. With pneumonia. And he now has a third type of cancer. He'll be 95 next month. I think... there-abouts anyway. I'm scared. I mean I don't want him to live forever, we all know that isn't realistic. But it's like... waiting in the doctor's office. You know you're going to get called back soon but how soon... and how am I going to deal? But I called him and he sounded good. He was happy to hear me and he knew who I was and asked about Monk. I just don't know how to deal with all this waiting.