The Old
OK, so yesterday I got all Catholic on the blog. An explanation:
My grandmother is in the hospital. She had a stroke. And then she clocked her head on a table on her way down to the floor necessitating 14 stitches and staples. And then she had a heart attack. However. She is awake, alert, and according to my mother a little sharper than she was before. Leave it to Mom to crack a joke.
A couple years ago, my grandfather, heretofore referred to as "Papa", got the cancer. He had his esophagus removed. His prognosis was that the cancer would come back in 3 years. It's been 3 and 1/2 I think. So, we've all been nestled nicely in denial's warm embrace of warming warmth for some time now.
This is different. There's a crack now in that cocoon. My grandmother, heretofore referred to as "Maggie", is 81 years old. The Old is starting to get her. She's a Cancer survivor as well. Breast Cancer. That was close to 20 years ago. Again, our family kept denial wrapped around us...or maybe it was just faith, that Maggie would be ok. And she was.
I want to say that now. Maggie is going to be ok. She is going to live forever. She probably is going to be ok. For now. But she's not going to live forever. And the realization is heartbreaking.
Maggie wears Estee by Estee Lauder. It's fragrance that is unique to her. I never smell it anywhere else. That scent is love and hugs and pretty things. I can walk into my mother's house and smell her in the air only to be told she was there 2 days before.
When I was a little girl, she used to take me on "erins". That was childspeak for "errands". We'd stop at Alice's Bridal Shop to visit and the shop girls would take me in back and let me try on veils. After that, we'd stop at the butcher shop...now a Koenig and Strey...and the butcher would give me a piece of bologna, which I would promptly bite into a smiley face. Then we'd go back to her house, and we'd have powdered donuts and orange juice. I'd sit waiting for the cuckoo clock to go off. It was a real cuckoo clock too. From Germany.
When I slept there, I'd wake up in the morning and listen for the Grandmother clock in the hall to chime no less than 7 times...that wasn't too early to be up. We'd eat Frosted Mini Wheats for breakfast. I never wanted to go back to my house.
Whenever anything got really bad at home, Maggie reminded me what love feels like.
I'm scared to go see her today. When Papa got out of the hospital he was so thin I hardly recognized him. I've never seen Maggie without her hair done...she gets it done every Saturday and sleeps in a night bonnet to keep it neat.
Mom says she's a little hard to understand and her right side isn't working. That's going to be hard to take. My grandparents were always strong and healthy and capable. They kept us safe.
But, she'll be ok. I hope she's out of ICU tonight. I want to bring her Yellow Roses.
Maggie loves yellow roses.
My grandmother is in the hospital. She had a stroke. And then she clocked her head on a table on her way down to the floor necessitating 14 stitches and staples. And then she had a heart attack. However. She is awake, alert, and according to my mother a little sharper than she was before. Leave it to Mom to crack a joke.
A couple years ago, my grandfather, heretofore referred to as "Papa", got the cancer. He had his esophagus removed. His prognosis was that the cancer would come back in 3 years. It's been 3 and 1/2 I think. So, we've all been nestled nicely in denial's warm embrace of warming warmth for some time now.
This is different. There's a crack now in that cocoon. My grandmother, heretofore referred to as "Maggie", is 81 years old. The Old is starting to get her. She's a Cancer survivor as well. Breast Cancer. That was close to 20 years ago. Again, our family kept denial wrapped around us...or maybe it was just faith, that Maggie would be ok. And she was.
I want to say that now. Maggie is going to be ok. She is going to live forever. She probably is going to be ok. For now. But she's not going to live forever. And the realization is heartbreaking.
Maggie wears Estee by Estee Lauder. It's fragrance that is unique to her. I never smell it anywhere else. That scent is love and hugs and pretty things. I can walk into my mother's house and smell her in the air only to be told she was there 2 days before.
When I was a little girl, she used to take me on "erins". That was childspeak for "errands". We'd stop at Alice's Bridal Shop to visit and the shop girls would take me in back and let me try on veils. After that, we'd stop at the butcher shop...now a Koenig and Strey...and the butcher would give me a piece of bologna, which I would promptly bite into a smiley face. Then we'd go back to her house, and we'd have powdered donuts and orange juice. I'd sit waiting for the cuckoo clock to go off. It was a real cuckoo clock too. From Germany.
When I slept there, I'd wake up in the morning and listen for the Grandmother clock in the hall to chime no less than 7 times...that wasn't too early to be up. We'd eat Frosted Mini Wheats for breakfast. I never wanted to go back to my house.
Whenever anything got really bad at home, Maggie reminded me what love feels like.
I'm scared to go see her today. When Papa got out of the hospital he was so thin I hardly recognized him. I've never seen Maggie without her hair done...she gets it done every Saturday and sleeps in a night bonnet to keep it neat.
Mom says she's a little hard to understand and her right side isn't working. That's going to be hard to take. My grandparents were always strong and healthy and capable. They kept us safe.
But, she'll be ok. I hope she's out of ICU tonight. I want to bring her Yellow Roses.
Maggie loves yellow roses.
posted by LC Greenwood at 9:07 AM
1 Comments:
I am thinking of you, sweetie. If you need anything, please let me know.
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