Most of you know that I have been taking care of my grandparents and mom because of their illnesses and elderly needs. What you may not know is that my grandmother has passed. She was 94.
This post will not be like my regular posts because I’m still dealing with a lot of stress so I will be streaming my emotions in this piece.
It has taken me some time to write about this because I’ve been an emotional mess, and unfortunately due to my OCD, I like to keep my mess nice and tidy– especially when it comes to death.
Death has always been a taboo subject with me. I had a friend in high school die while I was entering my Senior Year. And during that year I also had a Great Grandma and Grandma die, too. I became very humbled at that point in my life because I took the sympathy that people could offer me. Granted it wasn’t much because the grown-ups in my life thought I shouldn’t be hurt or upset since I was young– OR– they thought I should be strong for someone else because I was mature for my age. Needless to say, that part of my life was a mess.
Moving on a few years later, I lost one of the few people that understood me, my Uncle. It’s been 20 years since his death and people can say that the pain lessens over time, but I know for a fact that it really doesn’t. All that happens is that you find some normal times where you talk to that person you miss so much. But the pain— it’s always there– and full-on when you least expect it.
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Maybe some people say that the pain lessens because they are used to crying. I can say I’m SO not used to that. I don’t do that because I have kids and they shouldn’t see me that way. They don’t get to see me hurt because I’m Wonder Woman in their eyes. So I can’t cry. My Father was a similar man, but was, and always will be, my Super Man.
The only times I ever saw my father shed tears were for joyous occasions, and I tend to do the same– unless a sappy Disney movie gets to me. 😉 BOTH my Father and I share that trait to a degree– never saw him cry at a movie– probably wouldn’t want to either since he’s my Superman.
Tonight, though, I’m sad for a different reason. I’m crying, but no one is around so it’s acceptable. I am mourning for the old times. The times when everything was great and joyous. The times where this room that I’m am typing away in was filled with laughter and food.
It’s now a study. I made it that way to change things up. I NEED it that way right now because things are still too raw.
But getting back to what happened today– I just removed what I hope is the last horrible reminder of Alzheimer’s and old age in the house. I went to check on my youngest and wanted to shut her door so the cat and dog wouldn’t go into her room.
She’s not allergic, but my husband and I are, and we are trying to teach the animals not to be with us at night. ANYWAY, as I was shutting the door, I noticed the latch Grandma put on it to keep the room shut off from Grandpa.
She stuck it there so Grandpa wouldn’t go in there and hide the bank statements/banking accounts on her because she needed to pay the bills. Grandpa was pretty far gone with Alzheimer’s when she had to do it and I should have noticed it when we took my Uncle John’s name off of the door a few days ago, but I didn’t because I was blind to it then.
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It’s now off, along with Uncle John’s name on the door, and I feel a little better. Not MUCH because I STILL feel like I’m in HER house and not mine, but hopefully all of that will change as time goes on.
Stay fabulous!
Love and friendship,
Kimberley
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