Tuesday, January 31, 2012

corn bread and butter beans.

I finally started talking about my grandmother's condition to a friend or two. I realize that although I am not an extremely private person, I can be. I am a private person about things that really matter to me. I have to let people in to discuss emotional things. I can shoot the shit about myself, my life all day. However, family strikes a nerve because it has been so volatile for so long. I also don't trust a lot of people, especially in law school. Oh hey, competitor. This part of my life super sucks... talk about an invitation for sabotage, especially with the ill-mannered people at my school.
But, it's gotten a lot better. I think a lot of it came from me. I excuse a lot of what I consider pernicious behavior. I am sure my behavior from last year was excused, too, so it's only fair. But in all seriousness, law school bull aside, my grandma is back in rehab (she broke her arm, she's been sober since I'm born) and my parents are finally looking into a nursing home, even though it seems like this is the end of the road.
My grandma was a character. I know she isn't dead yet but might as well be, she has the end stages of dimentia/alzheimer's. Sometimes there are glimpses of her but it's rare these days. We were best buddies when I was little. My grandma is a hilarious leo with a love for animals and family. On that level we have a LOT in common. However, she was also a raging alcoholic with the worst mood swings. She was stubborn, independent, and outspoken often to a fault. However, I notice we share a lot of those qualities, too. I don't put myself down as much as she did and I don't drink like she did. I also have more compassion and my mean streak is NOTHING like her. In fact, from ages 10-21 we did not get along. It's sad that for 11 years of my life I remember avoiding her like the plague.
I know she was still struggling with my grandfather's death, getting older, and facing the music that at some point she would have to come home to NY. She moved to Florida to escape the cold (another distaste I share with her). When she finally hit her head in the bowling alley and suffered a traumatic brain injury, it sparked this current condition. Doctor's can't point to a specific tipping point of her current state but all we knew at that time was that it was degenerative. I remember my mom called me, it happened my sophmore year of high school. She was crying and told me grandma was having emergency brain surgery. My mom got mad at me for making a joke, "oh that's what brain surgeons are for. I always wondered why we give them so much credit." But as usual, my mom said it wasn't a time to joke although she appreciated my efforts... whatever. My mom and uncle flew down to Florida and took care of that.
I was really upset when I was told my grandma was moving in. I knew it was the beginning of the end, not only for my grandma but for my family. My mom and grandma do not get along AT ALL even though they rely on each other and love each other. It's like they feed off of the toxicity. My grandma got nastier and nastier as she got older. My mom put her through therapy for the post-TBI issues that would arise. Alzheimer's often changes family dynamics. Because I was the last person my grandma fought a lot with in the family, you can imagine how the dynamic affected me. What bothered me more was how my grandmother would scream at my father, who was literally picking her up off the ground most of the time. My grandmother's balance was shot to shit after the accident.
I hate seeing my dad yelled at. He's the glue that holds my perfectly dysfunctional family together and he's one of my best friends, if not my best friend. He understands my relationship with the women in my family and how I have no patience for their soap operas. But, all of a sudden, I realized that I was probably moving to law school soon and should probably change this dynamic. Time to start making as many memories as possible before I move. I know my parents were mad that I was moving because they were losing one of her babysitter's... not that I babysat a lot anyway. I am very selfish with my time as a student and young adult. I know my parents sacrificed a lot for their parents when they were my age but I was always told they made their lives better to make ours better, so I would not play anyone's keeper. I held them to that promise much to their chagrin.
I realized my grandma and I share a morbid, sarcastic sense of humor at times. She's a lot meaner than I, but I could appease to make her happy as her brain is shutting off permanently, right? So I began cracking jokes, telling her about my parties, guys I was dating, etc. I realized she just wanted me to tell her things, even if she asked me the same questions over and over. She always wanted a relationship with me, it was just soured by my inability to let her in to my life because of her bad behavior and because I saw the effect it had on my mom.
Through this process, I realized my grandma is a tortured soul. She had a rough childhood and although it doesn't excuse my grandmother, I can see why she chose the booze for years. Being raised by nuns in an orphanage during the great depression while her mom scrambled to make ends meet, it makes sense. I just wish my mom got the therapy she needed during all of this. It's hard to be the sandwich generation, but she took the role of martyr instead and continually lashed out on her kids. It's hard to go home, so hard I avoid it. My mom has learned to blame everyone else for everything, and takes little accountability for her bad attitude. When prompted about it, she just cries and lashes out. Not a very productive relationship and I know time might heal the wound, but I'm tired of trying with her.
My family dwells. broods. stews. I have some of that quality, which is why I'm still angry with them about how they are handling this grandma shit. However, I chose to handle it and let go, let God. At some point we all knew grandma was going to go.
We should've filed her medicaid papers ages ago. We should've taken serious steps to put her on waiting lists for nursing homes so by the time this last fall to the floor happened, she'd be next. I'm a planner. I understand that my parents thought it was not the right time, ever, to do anything, but avoiding the logistics and dwelling on the emotions didn't solve shit. Now we're all sitting around scrambling to change the status of her trust, prepare funeral arrangements, and to find a place for her. My parents both work and my brother goes to undergrad. I found out this past break that he misses work to take care of grandma on fall to the floor days. It pissed me off. I love and respect my brother so much for doing that but he did NOT have to take off of school to do that. My parents took my grandma in, this is their responsibility. My brother is going through what I refused to go through, giving up his shot at making his life even better than what we had to babysit a woman who could die on his watch.
We're now preparing for the end being so near. I doubt that I will be home or able to make the funeral but I'm saving for it. Everyone knows if you don't make a funeral for my small, retarded branch of the big Casey clan, you're in serious trouble and will be shunned by the ever-so-unforgiving mother of mine. You just don't want the drama from her. I know she doesn't mean it but the woman is a lot like her mother whether she wants to admit it or not. She blames other people she doesn't like in that moment for being like her mother, but my mom learned that behavior somewhere and it sure doesn't come from the generation below...
I am going to let the wounds try to heal and I will try to avoid my family's pleas for phone calls that dwell on things that we can't control. I tend to be tough about things because I've dealt with my mom's tears my whole life. I think that's why I cry so much when I get physically hurt! But, I know it freaks my family out that I've already made amends with my grandma and that I know how to deal with her. I don't let her jabs stick anymore. I don't let theirs stick either. Ya piss me off, fuck you. And that's that in that moment. Nothing more, nothing less. I have a threshold of tolerance for bad behavior. This death is truly showing some behaviors I thought I'd never see and it's only pending. I only hope my family softens up when grandma passes. Her death is only about them because they've chosen to make their life all about her. I wonder if a part of them will die when she dies because they associate so much with her illness. I can only imagine how many times their issues are blamed on her illness. Maybe we all have an edge because that's just in the genes? We are Irish you know.
Anyway, I was just inspired to write about this as I try to sort out my own life. I hope I have my grandma's zest for life with my nanny's compassion and my nana's know-how. Yea man, this chick had three grandmothers growing up and I loved it. I learned a little bit about life from all of them, even though my nanny died when I was a toddler. I hope to be most like my nana, 95 and going strong with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. I feel for her though, she is still with it but her body isn't. I know that's not worse than the inverse but it has to suck to be so independent and with it yet struggle with your daily bodily functions. But I'm not afraid to get old. I'm just afraid to be like my models in life.

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