Sick

My grandmother is sick. I'm sure that doesn't sound like a big deal, since most people my age have had at least one grandparent die. Well, I haven't. All 4 of mine are still alive--in various stages of health, but alive.

This grandmother is special, though. Most people would tell you that she is a pain in the ass. They would tell you that in a nicer way, of course, but that's what they would be thinking. Well, as most of you know, I get that from her. You probably all think that of me as well. And that's ok. Because the reason she is a pain in the ass is that she would fight to the death for someone she loves or something she believes in, and I think that is true of me too. And really, she doesn't care what that makes other people think of her. She has specific beliefs and values, and if you cross them, you're done.

She got married at 14 and had my dad a year and a half later. Two girls followed him. She lives in east Texas in a small town and raised three kids that are all great people. She's endured a lot and supported a lot of other people who have endured a lot. She took care of us when we were in really painful stages of life, and will tell you EXACTLY what you needed to do--even if you don't want to hear it.

I know that a lot of people don't like me, and consider me "strong willed" (my parents' words for describing me as a kid) but I have to tell you, there are a LOT of times in my life I probably wouldn't have survived without exactly that character trait that came directly from my Mimi.

She starts making the next meal as soon as she's finished cleaning up the previous, and she always makes the favorite thing of the person visiting. She always has pound cake on the counter and she taught me to make fudge. She cooks the only sloppy joes in the world that taste good to me, even though I've bought the same seasoning packet that she does, it still doesn't taste right when I make it.

She gave me my first diamond and didn't get mad when I lost it (I found it later--I still wear it on my pinkie). When my dad was single with two kids at home, I remember her coming to our house to rearrange the pictures on the wall so it didn't look like there were holes in the decor, and she told my dad how to make macaroni and cheese over the phone when long distance calls were expensive.

She was truly PISSED OFF at my mom when my parents got divorced, but she still loved my mom and has supported her too. When my stepdad died last year, she was one of the first ones to call and talk to my mom.

She takes care of everyone around her. Its built in to her nature. They are my shining example of a successful marriage. Almost every "grown up" I knew as a kid had been divorced. When I got married, I wasn't really sure that it was even possible NOT to get divorced. I think of them when that occurs to me. They can't possibly have had it easy. They didn't have any money when they were first married. They don't always agree on everything. Their interests have been different a lot. And yet, they love each other completely. I guess that comes from making a choice to be committed to a person, and following through on that promise. They just never saw walking away as an option.

When I talked to my grandfather the other day, he sounded like a little kid. He scared, and so is she. They don't really know how to live without each other, I guess. I can't imagine what either of them would do without the other. It makes me think of the saying "two sides of the same coin." They are very different from one another, but they haven't really existed separately in so long. . .How many memories do you have of life before you were 14? I don't have a lot. That's when she got married. They've been married 58 years. My life is already so entertwined with S's now, and we've only been together for 15 years. . .I can't imagine 4 times that long.

So, I am sad. A few years ago, Mimi told me that she wished her house had another bathroom. She said "If I were younger, I'd add another one on, but I don't have that many years left." I almost threw up. I truly felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I can't imagine her not being a presence in my life. I asked her not to say things like that, but she said "Well, it's true." Of course, that was easy to say when everyone was feeling fine.

I talked to her the other day, and she said she felt better, since she got some medicine. She said she wasn't worried and that I shouldn't either because what good does that do? I can't stand it. I feel so sad. Even though I know that MY everyday life won't change, I can't imagine not calling her and hearing her say "Well HI!" (East Texas accent: "Whale Hiiiiiaaayyy!") and asking me "What are you cookin' for supper?"

I'm praying that she will get better, but the fact is that someday she will die. She's the only person that never considered my personality a bad thing. I think I'm her mirror. I've always felt that way, but never really put words to it. I don't think it is a bad thing. . .maybe other people do, but if they ever needed me or Mimi to protect them. . .they wouldn't think so anymore.

What the hell am I talking about? I have no idea. I just know that I believe that death is a reward for the one dying, but the ones left sure do suffer.

Our pastor says that your last breath on earth is immediately followed by your first breath in heaven. I find a great deal of comfort in that, even though it doesn't make anything different. I guess I will focus on that.

I think part of my problem is that these are the times that I HATE living so far from home. Guilt and helplessness. That's what I feel. Guilt for not being there, and helplessness because I can't change that and I can't do anything to help from here.

This sucks. That's all there is to it. I'm going to go to see her in a few weeks. If she gets better then great--I got an extra visit. But, if she doesn't--I can't stand the idea of not saying goodbye. . .