19th
Remembering through her things.
My grandfather has been diagnosed with lung cancer, the really yucky kind that moves fast and has already spread. He always has been the eternal optimist and has chosen to fight to extend his time through chemotherapy. He began his regimine last Monday at age 86, approaching 87. My grandmother had been having gall bladder trouble with her surgery now postponed indefinitely because of Grandpa’s more accute condition. My Dad has been taking care of this and them along with everything else, and my Mom has been propping him up, despite her own abnormal mammogram. My father’s relief at her normal follow-up was tearful.
My paternal grandparents have always been impressively healthy. So healthy and fit that we have forgotten that they are not immortal. They have always been here in our lives -we never considered that a day would come when that would change.
Jens and Hannah and I all had dinner there a week ago today. They cooked us corn beef and cabbage (Jens’ first taste of this Irish feast) and it was a nice evening. They were in great spirits and showed us all around the house after we ate. So many memories I have of that house as a little girl, but the house is also so changed. Just not quite as much life in it now. Dad has told me that she has been going through each closet and item in the house recalling the story of each memory stored there. Strange, but it feels almost as though they are already packing up to move, and frankly I think Grandma is -and not to assisted living. I do not mean that morbidly. In fact, I just think it is beautiful the time Grandma is spending “remembering through her things,” and I just wish the family in my home town had more patience for it and I more time.
