Letting Go

My last post was in April. Things have changed. They have gotten harder in some respects, easier in others. I have gotten stronger. My relationships have gotten stronger. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed and almost crushed but still resolute in what I am doing.

I have never been so responsible for a person before. I have thought that I was, but now, I truly am. Myself and Aaron are so responsible for my grandmother. I watch her sometimes when she is sleeping. I brush the hair off her face. Sometimes when the light is not that good, I have to watch her for a minute or so to make sure she is still breathing.

These are things that people just don't talk about in everyday casual life. People don't talk about morbid thoughts at the grocery store. Not normally I don't think. They don't talk about this sort of thing out in the open. It's whispered or something. I don't hear anyone else talking about it. Of course, I don't know anyone else taking care of an older person.

Don't get me wrong. She is not in "bad" situation. She is not on the brink of death or anything. But its just like anything else. It changes day to day. She changes day to day. I love her, and sometimes I have to remember who she is. Sometimes she is far away from herself and from us and I have to remember who she is so that I can remind everyone, including her.

That is the hard part. Watching someone you love, someone who raised you, lose the ability to do everyday things, including show any emotion about it all. It is different when it is in your house and you can't ever get away from it, even in your head. I have to separate it from myself to a certain extent. I don't talk so much about it at work; little odds and ends that are funny anecdotes. That's it. I need to have a place just for me sometimes or else it consumes me; she consumes me.

I could worry all day, and I will not live like that. But sometimes it helps to talk about it. Maybe it helps to write about it.

So there has to be some separation. And I need to be happy. I am happy. I just...I have never encountered something that affects my life so much, that I cannot come up with a valid way to fix or better the situation. I just have to accept it. That is the hardest part. I am a fighter; a person who figures out a solution. I think outside the box. I think of alternative after alternative after alternative. But there is no alternative to getting old and ultimately dying. There is no alternative for it. I push and I push because I don't want to accept that. I don't know when you are supposed to reach that point. When are you supposed to say, "This is enough."? I constantly question:

Are we doing enough?
Are we doing it the right way for her?
Are we doing it the right way for us?
What would other people be doing?
Is their way better?
What if we screw up?

But you know, all of these questions are things that parents ask themselves as well. There are different things involved when you are dealing with an adult. We have to ask: when do we not push her to do something for her own good? when do we let her decide? What is the consequence of such a decision?

Wow. It's tough. It's tough to help her make those decisions and sometimes to override the decisions she makes. She is almost 50 years older than me. I think Aaron and I do a great job. I really do. And I am still happy to do it. I love having her here. I wouldn't want her to be any other place. And I am proud of us all. We have all made a lot of adjustments these past couple of months. There will be more to come, I'm sure.

Thinking about it now, I love every part of my life. I would just like to make hers a little easier. But I really do have to work on accepting the fact that sometimes there is nothing I can do but just let things that I have no control over, happen. It's so hard to figure out what those things are though.