Tuesday, January 29, 2008

My Nana

I just wanted to thank you all for your supportive comments and wonderful advice: this week has been incredibly difficult, and having you all there in my heart & head has been so helpful.

I've heard people speak poignantly about death and grief: read amazing posts from people who are suffering through unbearable pain, and I've never been more in awe of them than I am now.

Because I can think of nothing to say. No, I can think of too many things to say, and the zooming of my thoughts does not seem to translate into anything I can express.

I want to say how much I miss her: that I hadn't realized exactly how much of my everyday life was wrapped up in hers - from her morning trek down to get the paper to her last pills at night, she lived with us, she was a part of almost my every moment.

I want to say that it is so hard knowing that she won't knock on the door again... that it doesn't seem real. It seems as if I am either the best actress in the world, or the worst, and I am just waiting for her to enter stage right, and until she does, I don't know my lines. Or my cues, or my reason for being on the stage.

I want to say that, even as I am writing this, I know that it could have been so much worse. That this was, in actuality, a pretty easy way for her to go. The last two weeks were hellish for us & for her, but it would've gotten so much worse. And so I'm glad that she didn't have to do that.

I want to say that I am mad at her for hiding how sick she was, for wasting so much of our time together with the stupid PUS, for so smoking up until the day she started her radiation. And that I know how pointless it is to be angry at her.

I want to say that losing her makes me so afraid because I remember again, just how easy it is for people not to be here any more. 10 years ago, I lost my grandfather, my father, and an uncle, one every year for three years, and I kept thinking "I can't go through this again. I'm just not strong enough." 10 years later, and I feel no more capable of saying goodbye than I did then, and I'm terrified, because I know more people that I love will - eventually - be lost. Seeing my grandmother kneel in front of my Nana's casket, and knowing that she was my last living grandparent? I just wanted to hold on to her and never, ever let her go.

I want to say that I wish I could just deal with this one thing, but there are so many other things that I have to deal with too, and that makes it feel impossible. That makes it feel as if I will never be able to feel normal again.

And I want to say this here, because I can't say it anywhere else without feeling like a ridiculous child: It's just not fair. I know that life isn't fair, I live a pretty unevenly balanced life most days anyways, but this, it's just not right. It's just not fair.

I want to say so, so many things, but they all get stuck somewhere around my throat, and I feel like I'm choking on them. So, just... Thank you.

And, here's my Nana... know that she was loved.


Anonymous said...

Just wanted to let you know I'm reading/listening.

Maya's Granny said...

I lived with my great-aunt the last two years of high school. She was a most wonderful woman. When I went away to college, she went to the doctor. She had been putting it off until she had me taken care of. She had been seeing a chiropractor for back pain, and he should have referred her to an M.D., because that back pain didn't get better. And, because she put it off, the cancer was beyond repair. She was dead by May. I was really mad at her and felt like it was all my fault. Eventually, I've come to accept that she made her choices and put off going to the doctor as much because she was afraid as for me.

And, the depth of the pain was dug by the depth of the love and joy. One day you will be able to focus more on the joy than the pain. But for today, honor your Nana and be angry and sad and whatever else you need to be.