PinkBeltRage
sing your life.
20 August 07 ¦ Permalink ¦
This is definitely not the year for my grandparents.
My Grandma would have celebrated a birthday a few days ago.
I loved her birthday.
She was one of those people you’d love to surprise with presents.
She would act like the lady or man in those Publisher’s Clearing House commercials. You know when they’re trying to get you to enter the contest by purchasing magazine subscriptions or something.
The prize crew all pull up in a minivan and pound on the unsuspecting new subscriber to Prevention magazine’s door.
Balloons in the bouquet rattle and make that weird sound only balloons do when ready to surprise.
And there’s that giant ass check and the surprised round mouthed face and the hugging begins….
Yeah, that’s what it was like to give my Grandma a present.
It could be her millionth pair of Deerfoam house shoes or some gaudy Pucci-esque scarf, a heavily crayoned note from M, ... just anything… and she would be completely elated about it.
Grinning wide from ear to ear.
And I felt sadness that I wouldn’t see her face or hear her yelling over the phone this year, or any year, ever again.
I thought of how I miss sending her little things in the mail.
And then I thought about my Grandpa and how he was feeling on her birthday.
And then my mom called and said he was in the hospital, and they found cancer just everywhere and it was too late to do anything at all.
It just blows my mind how he must have been suffering the entire time my Grandma was battling cancer and going through her treatments and didn’t say anything.
He was just withdrawn and that’s probably normal when your wife of over 60 years is suffering beside you.
In just 24 hours, he was released and then stopped breathing and his heart stopped, 911 was called and they resuscitated him. And he was put on life support and then we found out he didn’t want to be on life support, so he was taken off of it and now he’s in a coma.
Tests showed that there is no longer any brain activity. He’s having seizures. They are not feeding him through the IV, they are only giving him morphine.
The doctor said he was a week at most.
I’ve talked about him, I think.
He was an alcoholic. He was abusive and beat my dad and his brothers when they were young, but the weird and maybe amazing thing about my dad’s side of the family is that no one ever harbored the blame and hate which typically comes along with a childhood like that.
Never once have I heard my dad or his brothers blame some bad part of their lives on my Grandpa and the abuse.
Growing up for me, all family gatherings were not complete without him getting too drunk and slurring and singing.
He was one of those life of the party drunks, for the most part.
Always eager to repeat the same damn stories about the Korean War, being in the Philipines and the friendly wahines (women) and the monkey he befriended in the jungle… he’d drink more on top of that… and soon he would become a regular lounge act.
The same songs, his favorite songs…
“Tiny bubbles… in the wine… makes me happy… (hicccup) feel fine…”
He’d pause to emphasize certain parts, make eye contact with someone, anyone. Do a point of the finger and wink of the eye and continue singing. . .
his other favorite song, “Sweetheart… Aloha…”
He could sing.
I mean, he wasn’t great or anything, but he wasn’t shy at all about it.
He really got into it. No music was needed, he just had it all in his head, spilling out vocally with emotion, smiles and winks and the occasional tear.
And at that point, it meant it was time for Grandpa to go home. And my Grandma would grab his elbow and they would leave, slowly shuffling out the door.
I’m thinking back to that time I went to Hawaii to help out my Grandma last year. And how during that, I spent time with my Grandpa, as well.
They didn’t want me to leave.
My Grandpa got out of bed every day and actually ate. And ate anything I brought over. He was probably around 95 pounds when I last saw him and losing weight.
And he talked and told me stories and showed me things in their new little condo.
Every little trinket and photo had a story.
I feel so fortunate to have had that time alone with them.
And those are the memories I’m really trying to focus on.
I have to admit, my heart feels heavy with guilt.
And I guess this is the selfish part that comes along with losing a loved one and coping. I don’t know.
I told myself after my Grandma died, I would be really good about keeping in touch with him.
And when she died, I slowly let go of him too, if that makes sense.
A million times I thought, I should write him and have M send him a card and picture. I even had an iphoto book in the works that I was going to have made and send him of my various photos and of M.
The night before I found out, I was planning on making him a DVD of M with some movies she just made of herself; a funny little music video of herself singing and in song proclaiming that she is in fact, the “best singer EVER”. And then her doing her best Elliott Smith imitation with her own made up touching lyrics and the ukelele (again) followed by her own spoken word poetry.
I thought how he would really get a kick out of that.
He really loved her. She made him beam. When my Grandma died, the only time I saw him smile was when M was talking to him, playing with him or hugging him.
And those are the photos I lost on the MacBook a while ago. All the ones of M and him playing catch and goofing off. Both of them smiling like crazy.
God, I wish I had those pictures.
I have been really upset. I know it’s probably for the best when he finally passes away and isn’t suffering anymore. And I know he’s old and these things happen, and hell, it did just happen to my Grandma.
We all know about death, but I just want to say I hate it. Still.
It’s been tough keeping upbeat and happy for M, but I’m doing fine.
She played DJ tonight and took over my MacBook and searched for “her songs”. She did this great singalong to some Crystal Gayle tonight, all while closing her eyes to belt out ”.. and don’t it make my brown eyes bloooooo….” and strumming her ukelele.
Clearly, her love of song and singing and being the center of attention has been passed down the generations, from my Grandpa’s side.
He would’ve definitely been proud of her if he was able to see that impromptu living room performance. . .
* * *
I started writing this last week and never got around to posting it, as is the case lately.
My Grandpa passed away on Saturday. His doctor said he had a week at most left to live, but you know how doctors are never right about those things.
I guess I’m still in shock.
I know it’ll hit me one of these nights, at a lonely hour when I can’t sleep and it’s silent and there’s no one to talk to.
* * *
— maggie 21 August 07 #
— Erica AP 21 August 07 #
— Hans 21 August 07 #
— Ed 23 August 07 #
Things have become worse for my family. Two days after my Grandpa died, my dad’s cousin.. who I called my “uncle” growing up collapsed and died visiting my Dad/family in Vegas. He was younger than my dad and as a kid, he and his wife came over a lot (they lived in the same city). Yesterday they had a viewing in LV and are cremating him now. Family from Hawaii came out for the service and will take his ashes to Hawaii.
I’m in shock and sad and just so sad that I don’t even know who or what I’m sad about. This recent death was completely unexpected.
I told M about her Great-Grandpa because now with my Uncle dying.. it became a bit much for me. She cried and then quickly composed herself and said he had lived a great long full life! Ha. And yesterday she noticed I was sad in the car and told me it’s okay because while she misses her Great Grandparents a lot too, she is happy they are no longer sick or suffering. It’s just cute how she’s repeating things I’ve said and other “grown-ups” have said.
— joy 23 August 07 #
— josh h 23 August 07 #
— nobudy 30 August 07 #
I marvel at how open you are with your personal moments, but I’m also not too surprised. You’re amazing, as always. Stay strong, sweetie. lots of hugs
— lexinthecity 5 September 07 #