Sinister: rolling green hills and cigarettes

[bus stoppers]

greetings and salutations...

i am bored and it's friday night.  so i thought i would post. 
plus i have some stuff to vent out and no friends near by in the
human form.  you peoples all get subjected instead.  here's my
version of storytelling, only it's all nonfiction.  and it's a
little less awkward and a bit more sad.

my grandmother died a year ago last halloween.  it was sudden
and it was a shock.  i had just moved out on my own three days
previous.  that halloween my roommate took me to downtown san
diego so that we could gawk at all the freaks.  it was my first
celebration of newfound freedom.  mikey and i got home and there
were five messages from my mom.  

"sara, are you sitting down?"
"no.  what are you talking about?"
"your grandma kojaku died today."

i don't really remember much after that.  there was the viewing,
the funeral, the reception.  since i was the oldest of all the
grandchildren, i had to be the strong one, the one to greet most
of the other funeral goers on behalf of the grandchildren.  blah
blah blah.  

about a few months later, it was diagnosed that my grandfather
had dementia.  well, alzheimer's to be exact.  i was in san
diego and he was in l.a.  i had two jobs and an old volvo who
didn't like the freeway.  i couldn't really visit him and i got
shit from my parent's all the time.  

then after a year in san diego, i decided to move to l.a. and
take care of grandpa.  he was getting worser by the day, and my
uncle didn't want to deal with it anymore.  i moved in with my
other grandparents and would go over there twice a day. 
everything was going okay.  he seemed to be doing okay.  not
really getting better, as there is no cure, but he was getting
into a routine and liked having me around for company.

if you know anything about the disease, i don't really have to
say what kind of craziness went on.  it was just elevated to a
whole other level when my dad and his two brothers started in on
what i assume has been years and years of pented up grudges.  my
uncle that didn't want to deal anymore, was even talking trash
about me behind my back.  it got bad.  i don't even know what
the fuck was going on.

then grandpa went into the hospital.  he was anemic and we
didn't know and some dialysis stuff too.  he stopped eating and
one night i even had to call 911.  that was the scariest.  after
that we hired a real caregiver.  i couldn't handle it anymore,
emotionally or physically.  i couldn't handle the family drama
either.  sigh.

anyway, i haven't seen my grandfather since new year's day. 
after seeing him on new year's i realized that i wasn't as
strong as i thought.  i even made my mom take me back to my
other grandparent's house because i couldn't stand to be in the
house.  should i feel bad?  guilty?  or should i feel bad and
guilty about not feeling as bad and guilty as i should...?

i have already accepted my grandmother's death.  i have accepted
that my grandfather is dying.  i have accepted that i am not the
strong, emotionally stable person i often wish i was.

but when i was sitting at the green hills cemetary this
afternoon, i don't know.  it made me forget everything that i
had told myself that i knew.  i used to be one of those skeptics
that thought it was weird when people went and talked to dead
relatives and stuff.  i talked to my grandma today.  and in her
own heavenly way, she reassured me that everything would be
okay.  grandpa would be fine.  my uncles would be alright.  my
dad would get better.  and that i was fine.

even though it was a good experience, i couldn't help leaving
the plot feeling a bit...down...

i just needed to get that all out.  my apologies for the length
and whatnot...but thank you for listening.

tears and hankies,
sara




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