A little over a year ago I got sucked into drama again. My grandmother was in a state where she couldn’t really talk anymore, and in all sense of the word wasn’t with us anymore. The one thing I fought so hard to do (keeping her in her house) I accomplished, but at the same time I never foresaw my uncle nor my grandmothers conservator work so hard to reduce her quality of life to just being bedridden.
For 6 years she was on hospice, and by most accounts that’s an extreme amount of time for anyone to be on hospice. Any anti-dementia medications were stopped, and she was given a combination of pain and anti-psychotic medications.
Sometime a couple of years ago I got a call about my father, which prompted the last series of posts about his financials. At first I was worried, but I got sucked into that drama. I had been free of it for several years. What I’ve realized is; this family, or at least this branch lives for this shit. Gatekeeping info to keep people strung along, feeding just enough info to keep them on the hook, but not enough to resolve problems.
The fight for my grandmother, and this recent chain of events made me realize why my grandmother chose to save me. She would tell me, “I saw the good in you.” and while that was a part of it, the other part is true good does not give up. True good does not cry that life is too stressful, or turn tail and run. True good stays in the fight to the bitter end, no matter what is said to them, no matter what is done to them, no matter which allies they lose along the way.
True good is knowing you will fight the good fight until your very last breath, till the clothes rot off your back, till your flesh turns to dust. True good is knowing your fight would continue without you, because you have equipped your kids to carry that fight for you.
Somehow my grandma saw this in me. I don’t know where, or how, but she did.
One of the most interesting things about my grandmother was her ability to judge most characters. Her weakness though was the weakness of all mothers, that her sons can never do wrong. I see this with my wife and son. I know my son though, he has more backbone than his grandfather or the other men in the family. He has good.
I’ve turned off the spigot of drama once again. I don’t want it. The last week or so has been somewhat of a withdrawal getting it out of my system. Sitting here and randomly putting thoughts on a page helps, even if I have a short finger, even if my writing isn’t what it used to be.
Oddly enough I’ve tried speech to text…. It’s just not the same. Sometimes you want to quietly tap out your thoughts. When you live in a house of 4 people, your writing as you write it is no longer public when using speech to text.
Anyways. I miss my grandma. I still hear her voice, guiding me, talking to me. It makes me sad that so many in this family only cared about what they were going to get after she dies. Seems that’s all many of them care about; “When is this person going to die so I can get their stuff?” They’re all grotesque.