deteriorating granny

"The world is sick
and all of us in it..."
-Showbread, I'm Afraid That I'm Me

Several months ago, my grandmother fell ill.  She had several episodes of failing health and had to be hospitalized a few times.  For a while, my heart jumped every time the phone rang.  I feared it was a family member telling us she had been put in a hospital again, or worse.

My parents and I visited her in the hospital during one of her stays and it was uncomfortable seeing her frail and hooked up to all the tubes and machines.  I stood there and didn't know what to do or say and just wanted to bolt.

She eventually got better, although she is thinner and more frail now.  I still worry we'll get a phone call late at night.

My other grandmother is slightly senile and her speech is becoming more and more incoherent to the point she can't get a full thought out of her mouth without stammering or stopping herself to clarify a statement.  I'm worried she's going to develop Alzheimer's.

There's dropping dead and then there's slowly deteriorating and dying.  I'm worried one grandmother is going to drop dead and the other will slowly melt away.

I see old people at work all the time and it kind of breaks my heart.  I see the old men with the dramatically curved spines and see-through skin and the old women with the milky eyes in wheelchairs being pushed by their children or shuffling in their walkers while their children patiently follow along.  They shake.  They stumble.  They need something to hold onto so they won't topple over.  I see oxygen tanks and forgetfulness.  I see exhaustion and sometimes I even see defeat in their wrinkled faces.  I'm scared that's going to happen to my grandmothers, that they will die in pieces, that all of their mobility will be stripped away, that their volition will vanish, that they'll be robbed of their reasoning.

I'm also terrified of that happening to my parents.  I almost can't bear the thought of my mom hunched over in a wheelchair with thin gray hair and skeletal hands.  I'm more worried about my dad since he drinks regularly and smokes heavily.  He's already battled with colon cancer and his brother died of lung cancer and yet he still lights up like he's sucking on sunshine.  It makes me angry and it makes it hard for me to want to get close to him because he's shellacking his lungs with tar and tearing up his liver with all the alcohol.

I'm also worried about my dog and cat.  They're both in the double-digit age now.  I'm always worried I'll come home to find Mom weeping over my dead cat's body.  Fortunately, neither one of them show signs of old age or failing health but it still crosses my mind regularly.  My mom  is enamored with our and when he passes away, she will be devastated.

And I think my fear of others dying comes from a fear of not knowing how to deal with everyone's grief.  I grew up in a household that discouraged expression.  I never saw my parents cry from pain or laughter.  They were stoic in their actions, language, and behavior.  Mostly.  And because I was never introduced to extreme feelings of sadness or joy, when I do encounter it, it makes me uncomfortable.  I don't know what to do or say. 

So when my grandmother's die, I'm going to have to deal with my parents' grief and I don't know how to do that.  When my dog and cat die, I will have to deal with my parents' grief and I don't know how to do that.  I'll just get that familiar need to bolt again, to run away until everyone stops hurting and everything is regular again.

I'm more worried about enduring everyone else's grief than my own.  That's because I don't feel particularly close to anyone.  Yes, I will be sad when my grandparents and pets pass away and I will cry but I'll probably move on easily.

And the reason I choose not to get too close to anyone is because I am also afraid to face my own grief.  If I get too attached, they'll one day leave or die and I'll be devastated and I don't know how to come back from that.  I've inadvertently carried on my parents penchant for not feeling too deeply.

I always imagined I would get a dog when I got out on my own and he would be my best friend.  The problem with that is the dog is going to die one day and I'm too afraid to mourn so I probably won't get a pet.  I'm also too afraid to mourn lost friendships so I don't have any friends.  I feel I already have enough hurt inside of me to burn on for the rest of my life so I don't need to add any more.  But if I never feel the deep sadness, I can't experience the great joy, either.  Is that a sacrifice I have to make to stay at an even level of feeling?

My fear of overwhelming grief has defeated the possibility of feeling overwhelming happiness.

No one wants a loved one to die and I think we all wonder if we can bear the pain of loss but people do it every day.  People are stronger than they think.  And I probably am, too.  I'm just not too keen to find out.