I feel I could reflect on such a topic for hours, pages even, but I think I could speak in general terms right now to get some things off my chest...
My grandfather can no longer take care of himself. And my grandmother can no longer help him. At 88 and 92 respectively I don't think it really is all that surprising to anyone, however it still seems so sudden to me. Last spring my grandfather was still farting around fixing things in his garage, being outdoors for hours gardening and cruising down the street in his old man go cart thing to grab the paper. Since the fall, he has deteriorated into a scared old man who can no longer remember how to get dressed and frequently recounts conversations he has had with friends who died in the war. At nearly 29 I do realize how lucky I am to have had him in my life so long, but now I want to be selfish and say it's still not long enough. I have spent hours with him asking questions about his childhood, the war, his life etc, but I am realizing that I have lost my window. I can no longer ask him those questions that I may have forgotten over the years. I cringe thinking of the times I rolled my eyes behind his back as he started retelling stories I had heard again and again over the years. I would pay anything to have him sit in the garden with me and explain to me about his first bicycle, and when he first laid eyes on my Nanny. (It was just after the war and she was wearing gorgeous red strappy heels...he was in deep smit from the start) and here I take after him as I begin to ramble....
This weekend my aunt and uncle from out west are coming to Ontario to say goodbye, the doctor thinking it will be soon, either his cancer or his dementia will kill him. He is just a sad shell of the man I have looked up to as my male role model for all my life. As he can't look after himself, my mum and her siblings have had to make the difficult decision to put him in a home. My mum is feeling so destroyed after having listened to her father beg her mother not to send him away. Just thinking about this makes my eyes burn. I wish there was something I could do so that such a lovely life isn't ended in such a sad, scared lonely way.
This weekend my aunt and uncle from out west are coming to Ontario to say goodbye, the doctor thinking it will be soon, either his cancer or his dementia will kill him. He is just a sad shell of the man I have looked up to as my male role model for all my life. As he can't look after himself, my mum and her siblings have had to make the difficult decision to put him in a home. My mum is feeling so destroyed after having listened to her father beg her mother not to send him away. Just thinking about this makes my eyes burn. I wish there was something I could do so that such a lovely life isn't ended in such a sad, scared lonely way.
1 comment:
So many, so many, so many hugs. I'm afraid my Grandma is on the ledge to a deep dive down to alzhimer's or dimentia and it is just so scary to think about it. But you are right, you are so lucky, as am I, to have grandparents still in our lives. Even more hugs. xoxo.
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