i really haven't blogged much lately and i know that, but i haven't felt like it.
looking at my pictures from my trip..i can't believe i was ever there. it seems like a far off dream, something vivid imagination, a machination of my mind, that was never real.
lots of stuff has happened since i last blogged. i'm going to bed now so i can't type them all. today i saw indiana jones w/ jason. we're planning on going to delaware next weekend for 4th of july and i'm looking forward to it :)
time for bed
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
i have felt really gross and fat, moreso than i have in a while. i was so healthy and on such a good run of going to the gym almost every day. i had good leg muscles and i looked good and felt good. it has been nearly impossible to force myself back into that groove. i made myself go on friday and saturday, but sunday i visited mom mom and granddad, and then today i didn't go either. tomorrow i'm visiting my mom and hoping i'll force myself to go when i get back, but i don't know if i will. i just can't figure out what is causing this complete lack of motivation and energy.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Rachel drove me back from the nursing home, which was really nice. On the way back I told her and Jenny about my trip, and Rachel said that considering what a tight leash my mom had me on growing up, it was interesting what a wanderer I am. What an interesting choice of words. Wanderer. Me? A wanderer? I told her that I'm really not and that I am making myself do things like take a trip to Europe to prove that I can, because they scare me. She said she would never want to fly on a plane by herself. So, a wanderer. I guess it's all about perspective.
Eli came over around 11:30 b/c I had asked him to. We've tried to hang out a ton of times since I got back and none have worked out, for one reason or another. It is really nice to know that when I need him he is there. It is nice to know I have people like that. I would certainly do the same for him and for my other close friends. (He also asked if I want to go on birthright with him and I said yes...I have been wanting to and that would be perfect).
Eli came over around 11:30 b/c I had asked him to. We've tried to hang out a ton of times since I got back and none have worked out, for one reason or another. It is really nice to know that when I need him he is there. It is nice to know I have people like that. I would certainly do the same for him and for my other close friends. (He also asked if I want to go on birthright with him and I said yes...I have been wanting to and that would be perfect).
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
I don't know what this is supposed to be like. There is no rule book for imminent death.
Tonight, 15 minutes before I was to leave to visit my mom for the first time since before I left for Europe, my cousin Rachel called me. I almost didn't pick up, but then thought it could be an emergency. It sort of was. My grandfather had had another stroke and couldn't even open his eyes this time. I hopped on the next train to my cousins', where Rachel and Jenny picked me up and we went to the nursing home where he's been for the past many months. There we found him, or the skeleton of him. He has shrunken (shrank? shrunk? I don't know) in size. We got there and he was sleeping, mouth open, with an oxygen tube in his nose. The three of us sat there sobbing until my grandmother arrived. At some point my grandfather woke, though did not open his eyes. He made faces. He made a face of pain and Jenny loosened the tube that was digging into his neck, and he made a face of relief. A little bit later he opened his eyes. My grandfather's beautiful eyes, eyes I may never see again. Boy does that sound dramatic. Boy is it dramatic. My aunt, uncle and cousin Becky came a little while later. By this point he had his eyes open and was trying to talk to us, though we could not understand what he was saying. At one point he said he was sorry. Sorry for worrying us, for causing us pain, I suppose. He also told a few of us, separately, to go home. Even in his state he is worried about us. What a selfless man.
What a smart man. What a kind and caring man. The smartest man I know. Brave, hardworking, with high morals and standards and a great sense of humor. And his hands and feet were always warm. And he used to rub my tummy when it hurt to make it feel better.
We lingered. Rachel wanted to leave but none of us wanted to go with her. My grandmother told him it was ok to let go, to stop fighting. That is when I lost it.
He is on hospice, which means that he is there to be taken care of until he dies. I did not know this until today. He is DNR. I did not know this until today. He may die tomorrow. I did not know this until today.
I guess it's both a blessing and a curse to have a small family like I have. On the one hand, there are less people to be there for you, especially if you feel alienated from the largest group. On the other hand, there are less deaths possible. The last funeral I went to was for my Gammy when I was quite young. I remember her, I remember the funeral, I remember being sad. That is all I remember. No one really close to me has ever died. The people who know me well know that my grandparents are much more like parents to me than grandparents. Having lived with them since the age of one I never had the usual relationship between grandparents and their grandchildren. We fought, they scolded me, and we were far closer than is the norm for our relationship. So to face losing my grandfather, even though he is really already gone, is unfathomable. It's been a long time coming but when he's really gone...what will I do? What will we do? Oh, we will go on of course. We will mourn and grieve and cry and wonder why and live and move on and keep him in our memories forever. He will never really be dead. But we will never be able to speak to him again. Never be able to tell him how handsome he is and, even though he can't speak, have him smile back at us and make us smile.
We said goodbye to him tonight. I said goodbye to the smartest man I know, my grandfather and pseudo-father. The man who took on more responsibility than was ever required of him, and took it in stride. We each held his hand. I stood by his side and said I love you, told him I missed seeing him. Gave him two kisses on the forehead and asked him for a kiss, bent my head down by his face and got possibly the last kiss he'll ever give me.
Saying goodbye is so hard. I can only say that I wish he would no longer be in pain, that his suffering will end. If there is a heaven, he will surely go there.
Tonight, 15 minutes before I was to leave to visit my mom for the first time since before I left for Europe, my cousin Rachel called me. I almost didn't pick up, but then thought it could be an emergency. It sort of was. My grandfather had had another stroke and couldn't even open his eyes this time. I hopped on the next train to my cousins', where Rachel and Jenny picked me up and we went to the nursing home where he's been for the past many months. There we found him, or the skeleton of him. He has shrunken (shrank? shrunk? I don't know) in size. We got there and he was sleeping, mouth open, with an oxygen tube in his nose. The three of us sat there sobbing until my grandmother arrived. At some point my grandfather woke, though did not open his eyes. He made faces. He made a face of pain and Jenny loosened the tube that was digging into his neck, and he made a face of relief. A little bit later he opened his eyes. My grandfather's beautiful eyes, eyes I may never see again. Boy does that sound dramatic. Boy is it dramatic. My aunt, uncle and cousin Becky came a little while later. By this point he had his eyes open and was trying to talk to us, though we could not understand what he was saying. At one point he said he was sorry. Sorry for worrying us, for causing us pain, I suppose. He also told a few of us, separately, to go home. Even in his state he is worried about us. What a selfless man.
What a smart man. What a kind and caring man. The smartest man I know. Brave, hardworking, with high morals and standards and a great sense of humor. And his hands and feet were always warm. And he used to rub my tummy when it hurt to make it feel better.
We lingered. Rachel wanted to leave but none of us wanted to go with her. My grandmother told him it was ok to let go, to stop fighting. That is when I lost it.
He is on hospice, which means that he is there to be taken care of until he dies. I did not know this until today. He is DNR. I did not know this until today. He may die tomorrow. I did not know this until today.
I guess it's both a blessing and a curse to have a small family like I have. On the one hand, there are less people to be there for you, especially if you feel alienated from the largest group. On the other hand, there are less deaths possible. The last funeral I went to was for my Gammy when I was quite young. I remember her, I remember the funeral, I remember being sad. That is all I remember. No one really close to me has ever died. The people who know me well know that my grandparents are much more like parents to me than grandparents. Having lived with them since the age of one I never had the usual relationship between grandparents and their grandchildren. We fought, they scolded me, and we were far closer than is the norm for our relationship. So to face losing my grandfather, even though he is really already gone, is unfathomable. It's been a long time coming but when he's really gone...what will I do? What will we do? Oh, we will go on of course. We will mourn and grieve and cry and wonder why and live and move on and keep him in our memories forever. He will never really be dead. But we will never be able to speak to him again. Never be able to tell him how handsome he is and, even though he can't speak, have him smile back at us and make us smile.
We said goodbye to him tonight. I said goodbye to the smartest man I know, my grandfather and pseudo-father. The man who took on more responsibility than was ever required of him, and took it in stride. We each held his hand. I stood by his side and said I love you, told him I missed seeing him. Gave him two kisses on the forehead and asked him for a kiss, bent my head down by his face and got possibly the last kiss he'll ever give me.
Saying goodbye is so hard. I can only say that I wish he would no longer be in pain, that his suffering will end. If there is a heaven, he will surely go there.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Sunday, June 01, 2008
spent the whole day with jason and had a blast, from the second he came over to the second he dropped me off (after i'd been falling asleep on his shoulder almost the whole car ride). more later, but i leave you/me with this: we spent a good chunk of time in toys 'r us being add kinda...well moreso me being the add kid and him indulging me/laughing, but he had his fun too.