January 9, 2003
10:40 pm

I've known about this for a while. I've been ignoring it for a while. I can't anymore.

My grandmother is dying. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around that. She's dying. Still alive now but the doctor says that the cancer is such that it's only a matter of months. She's been ill for a while but it wasn't so much physical as emotional behavioral; I was amazed at how stable her body was while other things were wandering.

But she's dying. And I don't know how to think about it. I'm sad of course. For her for my grandfather for my father for me. And it's not like it should be that much of a surprise, she's an older woman after all. But it is. Because she's always been around how could there be some time when she's not? As granddaughters go I'm hardly the best, calling and writing irregularly. Even now I haven't talked with her since Christmas. The last time I saw her (last year? the year before?) she looked older and smaller than I'd remembered. I think my mental image of her stopped changing somewhere in the late 1980's, that summer I went and visited them for a week or two. I remember being frustrated by her passivity, loving her hugs, and while not being sure how to interact in their daily life knowing I was wanted there. It's pretty much the same now though I'm older, she's older.

Dad and I are going for a visit in February. A long weekend in Abilene, making sure everything's okay, as much as we can over a few days. Visiting the people who visit her regularly and trying not to feel guilty about it. At least that's me - I can't speak for my father. My own grief keens within me, but hearing his too .... I can't think about it.