When I was a little girl, very little in fact, I looked so much like my fraternal grandmother that they called me Little Aileen. I hated that. "I am not Aileen," I would rant. "I am Ragged (no, not my real name)." I just wanted to be me. I didn't want to be compared to anyone.
As I have gotten older I have realized that indeed it was probably the biggest compliment ever paid to me, to be compared to a woman of her stature, her humor, her worldliness and her charm.
Last week my grandmother turned 95. In fact she celebrated her 95th birthday just as Princess M celebrated her first and I find that completely appropriate.
Today I learned that my Mamaw Aileen has pneumonia. It's not something I wanted to hear because deep inside I know what this means. I know that bedridden 95-year-old women don't recover well from something of this sort. I know that she may not even want to recover. It's been a tough 5 or 6 years for this unique lady. Other than the birth of her children, she had never been hospitalized until she was 85 and broke her hip. It was then that her physical and mental decline began, but not until that moment, I promise.
A few years ago she became so much smaller and so brittle. She no longer knew us or anything about the world around her. It was awful to see a world-travelling, independent, self-sufficient, firey, strong and bold woman in such dismay and inner pain.
We moved her to a nursing home whenever my aunt could no longer care for her. It was a tough decision and I think it still haunts all of us. However, I know that we couldn't have cared for her. I live too far away and the rest of the family is aging as well. I don't visit her much, in fact I haven't seen her in a while. She would get so frustrated and annoyed when we'd walk into her room. She didn't know why strangers would pester an old woman. She rarely even acknowledged us. It was too painful for her and honestly for me too. I know that not going wasn't the answer, but it seemed a better decision for both of us. Or maybe that's just an excuse.
So, today I think of her intently. I pray for her. I don't know what's the right ending and I don't want to choose one. I don't know what is the best. I just know it all may be soon.
I am pained for myself. I so love this woman. I am feeling relief for her. I know she hates this. I feel guilt for wanting the latter.
I wish I had words for her aura. I wish I could share how wonderful she is. I couldn't even begin to scratch the surface. I also know that I can't do much more typing without crying, so let's leave it at that. You'd love her as much as I do, even if you only met her for a moment. I am sure of it.
Friday, January 06, 2006
This is gonna hurt like hell
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother. Watching those we love decline is horrible.
Nothing trite or cliche will help, so I won't offer it. I'll pray instead.
I can think of nothing better than to one day have my grandchildren think of me with the love you have expressed for your grandmother. Although she may be fading, she lives... the way she was, in your memory, and she has probably passed to you many of her strengths. That's a wonderful thing.
Thinking of you. Pilot and Needlefingers:)
I'm sorry you are going through a hard time with your grandmother. She sounds like quite a lady. I pray that you, she and your whole family are able to find peace and comfort during this time.
Reading this about your grandmother made me cry, because it made me think of my grandmother. I lost her when I was 13, and she was in her early 60's. Before her death, she didn't recognize any of us - it broke my heart. She was (in my opinion) the greatest grandmother in the entire world. She was at every school event, sporting event - always there. She had the best personality - and everyone in the town she lived remembers her - 12 years since her death. I will keep your grandmother & your family in my prayers. Be very thankful you have had her on this earth for this long!!
Post a Comment