My grandmother is dying. She’s been slowly slipping away for years now, since 2008 to be exact. Dementia. These past two years she’s been mostly bed-ridden, no longer able to smile or recognize anyone. She lives a four-hour drive away, so though I visited “regularly” for two or three years, it was still only once every two or three months.
Once I got pregnant, I didn’t visit anymore. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but I did find it kinda risky, being so exhausted all the time, I was afraid I might fall asleep at the Wheel. I always figured I’d visit with Daniel as soon as he was born. But then when he was born, I was in Santiago, which is a nine-hour drive away. So we kept putting it off and off. Now it was FINALLY programmed for two more weeks. And it seems she won’t make it that far.
She was sick with pneumonia a few weeks ago and never really got better. Now she’s forgotten how to swallow again–can’t eat, can’t drink, slowly getting skinnier and skinnier and more dehydrated. Long ago her children (my mom, aunts and uncle) decided she would not leave her home for treatment. So they’ve got her on a home IV. Today she had a fever, despite being on antibiotics.
Now they’ve all traveled there to be with her. I wish I could have gone. But my mom made me promise I wouldn’t. I was going to, but she thinks a nine hour drive is too much for my Little one, plus once I’m there I won’t be able to help or anything.
She’s right of course. It doesn’t make sense for me to go. I’ll be much more useful here, taking care of the house and the kitties, cos we got no one to feed them when we’re away.
I wish I’d been able to say goodbye :(.
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