This month has been a ‘tough’ one for many reasons.
The boys both doing online summer school and neither of them really wanting or trying. That leaves a lot of ‘heavy lifting’ in the motivation department for mom.
Me not working, which you would think was a great thing, but I haven’t been able to sit still at any point in my life and I have been ‘paying my own way’ since my early teens. My brain does not like this ‘extended holiday’ with no pay idea. It’s not that we are hurting for cash, but that really doesn’t matter to me. I’m not making any right now, period. Don’t like it!
The first while with the Lyrica was tough but the results were great, are great. I can walk up and down the stairs without agony and I can stand from a seated position without crying out in pain. My body doesn’t feel like it’s being ripped in half (lower back) and my wrists are actually allowing me to do things, like peal potatoes for dinner or wash a peach for a snack. Ummm, I love fresh peaches ….
All of that happened but that’s not the part I have a hard time with right now.
This July I wanted to blog about my experience when my grandmother was in the nursing home and the last few weeks before she passed. I wanted to dig up that heavy metal chest that I have buried deep inside and I wanted to attempt to pry it open and set it free. I wanted to find my own emotional and intellectual closure to this part of my life, her life.
My grandmother was a huge part of my life and a huge reason why I’m even still here today. When she was on her death-bed, and even before, I knew she needed someone there to maintain a level head and guide the rest. That was always her role you see and she could no longer fulfill that role. The ones needing guidance were all too familiar with denial as a coping mechanism for life and it was still showing true then.
I did my part, I held things together, I was the calm in the storm. I made the calls when no one else could and I very literally walked the long hall way to help her leave us.
I’m not an emotional person but that doesn’t mean I don’t have emotions. I held on to them those days however, I needed to help others find their way.
Certain things still play on my mind more often than I care to admit. Certain scenes still run through my dreams.
I have some of her plants here, they are doing quite well. I planted tomatoes because she always had them for my boys. They are coming into season, even in my shaded back yard so I am able to pick them, everyday now ….
I have reminders of her everywhere in the summer, in July. It has been two years and things for me and the boys are settling. Last year was much to hectic to even stop and think to write that stories that are locked in my head, in my heart. this year I was going to take the month to write, feel and purge that heavy metal box that keeps me up at night.
Some of the things I need to share are gruesome and heart wrenching. They deal with Alzheimer’s (Dementia), physical symptoms and end of life.
This past month I felt it important to put my needs aside and hold my tongue for the sake of others. I didn’t want to add a burden to those who are already carrying their own. I didn’t write, I kept that chest locked up tight inside.
It’s now the end of the month and her ‘anniversary’ has past and for some reason my brain isn’t allowing the words to flow freely any longer. The mind is a powerful and interesting thing, is it not?
Hindsight being 20/20 I don’t think I would have changed a thing, no matter how the story played out. I still feel remaining quiet was the right choice but I can’t deny that I do feel a bit cheated. *sigh*
One more year of dreams and rattled thoughts ….. maybe the words will come sooner. Heres to you gramma!