How Do We Handle Losing Those Most Important to Us?
This post is going to be a little bit different than my usual, but every so often I feel the need to write outside the realm of mental health. And when a subject weighs so heavily on my heart, as this on has for quite some time, it leads me to believe what I'm thinking and feeling should be shared.
My grandma, my mom's mom, has been a huge part of my life. She was at every family event, at all the awards and random school ceremonies, she watched my sister and I as children, and I used to go to her house after school at least 3 or 4 times during the week while I was in high school. As I've aged, my grandma has been right there beside me in this life. She paid for me to go France (my dream since I was a little girl) as a high school graduation present. She was so excited to see my sister and I graduate high school, and she was even more excited when we entered into college. She always encouraged education in our lives--she wanted us to have the possibilities she never got in life. In short, my grandma is the best.
And now, she's fading away.
During the summer of 2017, my grandma had a stroke. Really, it was a miracle she lived, and it was even more of a miracle she made the recovery she did. We learned quickly after her large stroke that she had been having mini strokes several times during the course of the previous year. When she finally had the larger stroke, one side of her brain was severely affected and she was unable to move or feel the other side of her body in the beginning. Luckily, she eventually regained her strength and feeling in her arms and legs. Her brain recovered to an extent, but it's never quite been the same. She now repeats herself over and over again during conversations, and she's more forgetful than not. It was only a few months ago that my mom was told she was in the early stages of dementia.
It's hard to know someone your whole life, to know them as this strong, independent, and courageous human, and suddenly see them revert back to a child-like stage. It's even harder to be old enough to understand all of what is going on. Now, don't misunderstand me, I think it's tragic at any age and point in life to lose a grandparent (or someone close to you, for that matter). It's just, like I said, I'm an adult--I understand it all. I understand what's happening, I recognize her time is short, and I know that I will be left with memories and heartache.
It also hurts because I see or hear about how she hurts. She's becoming more forgetful, and sometimes it works out to her benefit to enjoy aspects of life more than once. For example, the other day my mom called her and informed her she was bringing them both Chinese food (my grandma's favorite, by the way), and she seemed so excited on the phone. When my mom arrived, she looked surprised and asked, "what are you doing here?" My mom said, "I brought us some Chinese food," which of course she was happy about all over again. But unfortunately, there are several moments where my grandma forgets important things that are hard to have to allow her to relive. She is beginning to forget time I believe. My mom tells me that she often asks about her family. She'll ask my mom when she last saw Alvin (her brother), and sadly, my mom must tell her that he's no longer here. Usually my grandma begins to sob, and I know it takes everything in my mother not to sit there and cry, too.
You know, people say f*ck cancer, and I totally agree with them, but I'd also like to say f*ck dementia. F*ck Alzheimer's. It's a horrendous disease, and it's one I never thought I'd have to see some I love so much go through. The fact is I haven't had many people I'm close with die after my thirteenth birthday, so death and grief over death are a bit strange for me. When I was four, my great grandfather and my uncle died. As much I know of them, I don't really remember them. The first death that ever hurt me was when I was nine; it was my Mama Grace (she was a great aunt from my dad's side). I formed a special connection with her as a child, and I remember being genuinely sad over her passing. But it helped that we only saw her on occasions since she lived in Alabama and we lived in Georgia. For a while, it was easy to feel like she was just "away" and not dead. The second death that actually affected me was that of my great grandmother. She died when I was twelve, and I can remember sobbing when I walked past her casket at the funeral. But again, I was young--I remember her, I have special memories, but they seem blurry due to my child brain which somehow seems to help me with loss. I was so young that I don't remember feeling extreme amounts of grief for any long period of time. Their death happened, it mattered, but I still moved on easily.
My grandma is still here with us, but I already find myself going through phases of grief. When the stroke first happened, I didn't let it get to me. I was hopeful for her recovery, and I put most of my happiness into the fact that she was still here. Over time I've realized how her condition has worsened, and I see that she isn't the same. Here me out here, because she's still my grandma and in many ways she'll always be the same special woman to me, but this disease has a way of stealing the person you've always known. You're grateful they're here and you love them wholeheartedly. Your heart just breaks for what you have to watch them lose and go through. As I mentioned before, my grandma is becoming more child-like, she is often repetitive due to easily forgetting what she's said or asked, and it's hard to carry on long conversations with her or ever seek advice. It's the little things you begin to miss the most, and it sometimes feels as though I've lost her without her actually being gone.
To get to the point of all of this--I'm struggling with the deteriorating health of my grandmother. She's been my role model of strength and love for as long as I can remember. My heart aches some nights as I try to fall asleep because a random memory pops into my head, and the hard truth is that I don't talk much about how all of this makes me feel. I don't really know how. I don't want to make it harder on my mom, and at the end of the day I know this is one of those events in life that I can't control. I understand that death meets us all eventually, but it's hard to slowly let go of her. It's even harder to be so firmly aware of it all--to be at an age where I will remember it all quite well and where I currently feel it all, too.
For anyone who may be going through something similar or has gone through some similar before, I just want you to know you're not alone.
