12:07 am
Went to the hospital with mom and Kenny today. Grandma is still the same. Her hemoglobin was a little low, and one of the doctors asked my mom (who was on the edge of hysteria) whether or not she wanted to do a blood transfusion- to which she immediately said ‘no’.
Grandma’s friend from childhood, Sheila, spoke to my mom tonight on the phone and said that she was just getting in from having gone to visit my grandmother around 5 pm. It turns out that Sheila (whose daughter died of breast cancer the year before and who she had to pull off of life support) had also used ____ Funeral Services- which is the funeral home that I have been in contact with.
The end to all of this is near.
I can feel it.
I was going through some of the old papers that my grandmother kept and found a ton of pictures- a woman who seemed happier in a different lifetime. There were a few pictures of me, and she had saved every card I sent to her.
The hardest thing to look at is her tattered phone book, which consists of nothing more than torn fragments of pages complete with phone numbers, addresses and reminder notes written in unsure handwriting.
Numbers and names painstakingly recorded in my grandmother’s shaky handwriting over and over again for people of importance. My name appears with a disturbing frequency along with “Shirley”, “Cecil” and several others. I found it really sad- to effectively see and be able to interpret what I consider to be a lonely, depressing existence- working so hard for all of those years only to be left with a limited memory, practically no money in your bank account and a possible funeral attendance that would be considered paltry by most.
I wanted better for my grandma. I wanted her to join the higher ranks of those who could enjoy a small fortune…but perhaps that was something she never wished for herself.
I find myself questioning my own mortality in all of this- wondering what kind of end I’ll meet. This is partially the reason why I journal- why I now scramble to write down and record every detail- in case one day I forget who I am…
at least I’ll be able to look back and read a good story.
I want grandma to know that her life was not in vain- that though (to me) her apartment was not up to most standards;
that despite having food stamps and a minimum wage check-
She had me.
And she will always have my love.
Right up until the end.
1:06 am