My Grandpa --
He worked as a Garbage man for years with his own business -- as a kid I knew and thought of him as being rather rough, but I loved him. He always had peppermints (he liked to "sneak" them to us durring church) And I think there were many times when I only went to say "hello" to him because I knew I'd get candy. He also introduced me to the WILLEMEINA PEPPERMINTS, and took us out for RAINBOW ICE CREAM CONES for which he will always be remembered as a saint by his grandchildren. (His grandchildren returned the favor by introducing him to PIZZA!)
Retirement seemed to mellow him out a bit -- but I also got older and someone that combination slowly let me get to know him better (differently??)
My Granmother probably knows him in a totally differnt way from me -- as a wife (and before that as a beau and before that as the "guy" her father kept trying to push on her!)
My mom knows him in a different way -- as a dad who came into her life after she was already an adult. My Dad knows him as a father-in-law.
Grandpa A. has a way of making friend with EVERYONE --- the waitress at his favorite PIZZA PLACE even invited him to her wedding. He was just himself (and went out for pizza often!) and got to know her - he was friendly - she was friendly back - he joked with her - she joked back ---- Friendship is a strange strange strange thing.
They called "the family" to the hospital last night. Apperently the end was near -- but Grandpa rallied and is still here. There are more "not good" days than good days, and part of me wonders why (why why why why) couldn't there have been a clean cut back in April? Why dink around with life -- why put extra stress on my Grandmother. Part of me screams "ENOUGH!" but a bigger part of me is in deep denial and holds on to hope that the grandpa I knew 6 months ago will be a part of my life again. I don't care if he can't walk (he might) or can't read. But I'd like to be able to talk to him and have him ask the same questions he always asks me ("What's the price of gasoline by you?" "What time do you leave for work?" "Any boyfriends I need to know about?" and always ending with "Come again!")
How does poking around in someones brain change them? It's amazing to think that all my "ME-NESS" can be changed just from a freak accident to my head. (It almost makes me want to weat a helmet all the time -- but I suppose that wouldn't stop a stroke or a hemorage)
I'm content to wait - but I wish i could flip to the end of the book to see what it looks like. Will he need constant care? Will he be a person? What will grandma's world be? Will there be tough decisions (I suppose I know tough decisions are coming - but I don't like them - I wish they could be the kind of tough choices that I've already thought about and have some conclusions) I'm glad I'm not involved with those choices ---- I hope I never know was the decisions were. Just happen.
I told myself not to feel guilty about not being there for easter. And it really would have been silly or me to go at the time, logically I didn't need to be there. But I wonder . . . and wonder . . . There is no guilt . . . but . . .
If anything I feel guilty for thinking some of the things I'm thinking. It'd be so much easier for a clean cut back in April - It'd be so much easier for a clean cut right now - how long -- how much --- time heals all wounds -- unless the wound still has the knife stuck in it -- and that's the terrible part. How can I even begin to pick and value one over another.
June 11, 2002
