My grandfather had a heart attack on Thursday and quadruple bypass surgery. He's still in critical condition, and I'm concerned. Past concerned. Worried. Majorly.
Thanks. It's just...been bad. I'm stuck on the other side of the country where I've always wanted to be. Hell, I chose to be here and I love it and the only reason why I see it as stuck s that I'm getting information from family members and I don't like second hand info.
And it doesn't help my guilt at not being there that I don't like him all the time. There are some things time doesn't get rid of, and unfortunately, several of those things stain my relationship with him. But he's my grandfather and I love him regardless of what my brain tells me is rational. And I don't want him to die. Which he won't. He won't. He won't. He won't. And if only I was young enough to believe that insisting on things actually made them come true.
So yes. I'm a giant bundle of absolutely raw nerves, and you probably didn't want to hear any of this, but thanks for caring enough to say something.
ah hell sweetie....Pain shared is pain halved I believe. And what you are feeling about your grandfather, that's what family is all about. I'll let you in on a not-so-secret bit about my family.... my dad was a drunk, and sometimes when he drank he became....unpleasent. So much so that I would not allow his granchildren to see him alone. Because I didn't want their memories of him to be tainted with yelling and surprise hits, and when he died I was happy and angry and depressed all rolled into one. Because I never got the chance to explain why I was mad to him, nor tell him that despite the fact that I hated his behaviours and he made my teen years a living nightmare that I loved him as well.
Its very easy to love and hate someone all at the same time, especially family who have the power to hurt with a look or action.
I understand what you're saying; that's for sure. Thanks for just listening. Last I heard, he's doing a bit better, not out of the woods by any means, but better.
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And it doesn't help my guilt at not being there that I don't like him all the time. There are some things time doesn't get rid of, and unfortunately, several of those things stain my relationship with him. But he's my grandfather and I love him regardless of what my brain tells me is rational. And I don't want him to die. Which he won't. He won't. He won't. He won't. And if only I was young enough to believe that insisting on things actually made them come true.
So yes. I'm a giant bundle of absolutely raw nerves, and you probably didn't want to hear any of this, but thanks for caring enough to say something.
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my dad was a drunk, and sometimes when he drank he became....unpleasent. So much so that I would not allow his granchildren to see him alone. Because I didn't want their memories of him to be tainted with yelling and surprise hits, and when he died I was happy and angry and depressed all rolled into one. Because I never got the chance to explain why I was mad to him, nor tell him that despite the fact that I hated his behaviours and he made my teen years a living nightmare that I loved him as well.
Its very easy to love and hate someone all at the same time, especially family who have the power to hurt with a look or action.
*hugs*
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I love the icon!
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