I just needed to post this really quickly, although I do have a lot to cover.
I just had one of the worst days at work. I mean, I was STILL bitching as I walked out the door of the hospital, got into my car, sped three blocks home, got out, checked the mail, unlocked my apartment and came upstairs, went to use the restroom, and got everything together to sit down and chill out - I crabbed THE ENTIRE time.
But right now, I don't want to talk about that.
I just got off the phone with my grandmother, and I came to realize in that brief moment of talking to her, that I love the sound of her voice. I'm incredibly choked up as I write this, but I'm trying desperately not to cry. Her voice is so reminiscent of when things were good in my life, when life wasn't so hard. And, I like to talk to her without any distractions - being on the computer, watching tv, anything like that, because I don't like ANYTHING to deter my attention from her. I think in the short time that I get to talk to her, she deserves to have 100% of my consideration.
I think she'll be 85 this year. She's not long for this earth. And, she's had it rough. Her health is deteriorating rapidly. I thank God that she was never a victim of Alzheimer's. She's completely blind in her left eye, and she has a percentage of site left in her right. She's had two total knee replacements on her left knee, numerous scopes done on both knees, several various eye surgeries, a failed corneal transplant, and now, she's in the smack-dab middle of having a gamut of heart tests run, because she's been having heart palpitations so severe, they've caused her numerous times to pass out.
My family has drifted apart. I've never been happy about this. But in my heart, they're still my family. I think that while emotional closeness within a family is incredibly important, so is physical closeness - the closer, the better. The fact that right now, I can't be with my family when they need me, and when I choose to be with them, tears my heart open almost on a daily basis. There are days I NEED my aunt, her kids, my Grammy, my uncle - SOMEBODY who is me - to be there.
Phone calls just don't do it for me. They don't do justice to way my family makes me feel when we're together.
I always feel like I'm shoving my family in peoples' faces, but I love them. Even though we have our share of problems, I can't help but be completely head-over-heels in love with them. They're the few people who have ALWAYS been there for me. They weren't always able to help, but at least they chose to listen.
My grandmother is the same way. Before we hang up, she always says, "Jennifer, I wish I could be there to help you more," and I sigh and say, "I know. I wish I could do more to help you, too." And, I tell her that I love her every, single time I get off the phone. It's only been in the last two or three years, that I've started telling my family that I love them, whenever I get off the phone or in parting. I believe that's important. You should never "assume" that someone knows you love them, although I do understand that it may be difficult for some. I think it should be said often and with feeling.
I want my grandmother to live forever. I don't ever want to let her go. I frequently wish I would have never left town, so I could be there - for her. But being in that town was so oppressive for me - the memories, the same haunts, the places I'd been with my mom and my ex-husband, the love of my life. It's just too hard. I moved for selfish reasons, but I don't want to get into that.
I just always want to remember what Grammy's voice sounds like. It's the kindest, slightly northern accent you could ever hear. And, it's got the most wonderful soul alive to go along with it. She's one of the people I will forever admire, and I never want her to go. I fear that every day. I don't care if she tells me the same stories over and over again. I love her so much, that I feel like my heart will just explode.
I'm sorry. I know my blog has giant gaps in it, with lots of missing information, and that my posts have been kind of unrefined and choppy, and for that, I apologize. I always tell myself to be more diligent in my writing, and I'm trying. This is my therapy, and I should do it regularly. I'm blogging for several people, so my psychiatric bill should be outstanding. Like I need that.
I love you, Grammy. We're so lucky to have you as the matriarch of our family, and I'm so thankful that you're mine. I'm so glad that I've had the opportunity to know you for the entirety of my life. I've always been able to rely on you all these many years, no matter what the situation. I could never do you the justice that you deserve, but please know I want to. I want nothing more than to make the rest of your life a cakewalk, because you've earned it. I'll love you for the rest of my life and beyond. Thank you for being a part of my life.