Long Story Short ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nana and Grampa Random thoughts. My grandparents are old. My grandmother's birthday was on the 19th and she turned 87. My grandfather will be 86 in late May - five days after I turn 26. I love my grandparents, they're really the only sent I've ever been exposed to. My mother's family all lived out in Indiana and I only saw my maternal grandmother a few times before she died, when I was six. I remember her death because I remember my mother sitting on the edge of my bed and holding me, crying slightly, and telling me. And I remember feeling so loved in that moment. My maternal grandfather hung around until I was a sophomore in college and the last ten years he spent in a home, drifting in and out of reality. I would visit him every few years with my mother and it was awful in every way that a nursing home is awful - bad smells, confused elderly people, and worst of all not being recognized by your own family member. When he died it was something of relief to me because it meant an end to the visits. My paternal grandparents are essentially my only grandparents, in reality now but for my childhood as well. They are smart, disciplined people who raised two successful, happy, redheaded sons. And now they are deteriorating. Rapidly. My nana has a multitude of health problems, none of them severe enough to put her in a wheelchair or keep her bedridden, but she is in pain. My grandfather is physically stronger but more and more he can't remember things, details, and he asks you the same question over and over again when you talk to him. Their voices get weaker every time I call, and they look more caved in every time I see them. I see them less and less. I call them less and less. Because it's hard for me to watch the deterioration, and I struggle to have a conversation with them. When I called them on Christmas my grandfather took too long to realize who I was, and then he told me that he had met Bailey for the first time the day before. He has met Bailey hundreds of times, I've had her for four years, and when I heard him say that I went a little bit cold. My grandmother is admittedly not a woman who could be called "nice", and over the past few years she seems to have picked on me a little more than I would like. She seems to have zeroed in on me for some reason that I can't explain, since she used to be nicer to me than everyone else. I speculate that maybe she doesn't fully support my current living situation but I have no way of knowing if that's what caused the increasingly acidic behavior. But I can say that when, at a family gathering in July, she told me that I had pick LAST from her collection of family heirlooms (crappy knick knacks) because "you won't be a MyLastName much longer", it definitely hurt my feelings. And made me turn a bit stonier toward her. So I never call them anymore, unless I absolutely HAVE to because it's a holiday or birthday. And every single time I talk to them or see them my nana begs me to come visit them. I always say, "Sure!" and then I never go. I feel torn about this because I know that they won't be around much longer and in ten years I may look back and think what an ass I was and hate myself. On the other hand my interactions with my grandparents for the last year or two have been largely negative, and I've often gotten hurt feelings from my nana. My parents are great and basically leave it up to me to decided what my obligation is to them - they go down and visit them very frequently and call regularly to make sure everything is going well. The sad part is that when I was in college, living 1500 miles away, I called my grandparents at least once a month. I sent them letters and really made an effort to be a presence in their lives despite the distance. Now, when I live an hour drive from their front door, I see them twice a year. Maybe three times, depending on how the holidays go. I never call them. I never send them letters. I don't feel horribly guilty about it, either. I just feel like it's a bad experience that I'm insulating myself from. And I know how cruel that is, to distance myself in their declining years, when this is probably when they need me the most. I'm not sure if I'm asking for advice or just throwing this out there. I just feel guilty, but not guilty enough to do anything. My father says that his parents are his responsibility and that I shouldn't feel obligated to them. My mother says I should do what I want and not what I think I should do. Maybe it would easier if they demanded that I visit them periodically, then I could just do it and blame them and not myself. 10:00 a.m. - 2006-03-29 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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