Nana

I need to write about it but I can't without tears welling up in my eyes. I should probably talk about it but I don't want people to know that I'm having a hard time dealing with this. I know I need to release every thought inside of me but once they leave me I'm terrified of where they'll end up. People don't interperet things correctly and I can never be bothered to explain. Everything ends up in a mess so it's better that I just let nature take its course. I can't change anything. I can't stop what the final outcome will be. I just have to come to grips with the fact that the person who saved my life on more than ten occasions is not the same person anymore. And pretty soon she won't even be that. She'll be gone and I'll be left with memories. The question is, what will I remember? Will I focus on the good things, or the things to this day I don't understand? Will I remember anything?

If there's one thing I'm good at, it's supressing memories. I block out the traumas behind this tough girl wall I've built. I don't allow myself to feel, therefore I don't allow myself to hurt. I don't remember most of high school, partly because of the drugs, and partly because I don't want to remember. So what's going to happen when my grandmother finally dies? Am I going to remember all the places she took me when I was younger to open my eyes to different people and different cultures? Probably not. I have a hard time remembering that stuff now. Will I remember being shipped off to boarding school and not being allowed to come home? Chances are I'll hold on to that because the rest of my family doesn't let me forget anything negative that's ever gone on in my life.


The fact of the matter is, I'm really, really going to miss my grandmother when she goes. The truth is, I already miss her. She raised me since the young age of 3. She's not always been my favorite person, but she's always been the person I could count on. She's the toughest fucking woman I know. She's been through hell and back and I can't even imagine how she finds it in herself to smile. She was left by her mother when she was a young girl who lived in the hospital. Her alcoholic father beat the shit out of her and her sisters until the day they could finally move out. She's mourned 6 children, my mother included. She's battled disease and lost two loves of her life. And yet she found it in herself to take care of me when no one else in my family could. She's an amazing woman who has more strength in her then most men half her age. The sad reality is I'm not sure who she is anymore. Alzheimers has gotten the best of her and I almost lost it the other day when she didn't even recognize who I am. "You're my granddaughter, right?" *knife to the motherfucking heart.* And I noticed a little growth on her lip. I didn't know what it was, but I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to upset her. And I'm glad I didn't ask because when I found out what it was, I couldn't imagine hearing the news from her.


My aunt called me last week when I was on my way to work. It started out great. My uncle's cancer appears to be gone. Time to celebrate, right? Wrong. The growth on my grandmother's lip is skin cancer. And to top it all off, they think her breast cancer CAME BACK. They removed and entire breast and she hasn't even had to think about it in almost as long as I have been alive. But it's back. I'm writing about this and I'm shaking. Partly, I am fucking angry that she has to go through all of this again. Partly, I am really fucking sad over it. I don't want her to be in pain. She's had enough. It's not fair. She doesn't even think she can handle this. Come to find out, she's already talking about dying. She's giving up. So the toughest lady I know has finally had enough. I can't say I blame her. This is all too much for me to think about. I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do. I know I need to be with her and spend time with her, but it's hard. I need to grow a pair and realize that it's ten times harder for her. Maybe it's my turn to be the one to lean on. I just need to suck it up.

Or maybe what I need to do is stop jumping twenty steps ahead of myself. Instead of dreading the day she dies, appreciate and love her while she's here. The problem is, I don't know if I'm capable of doing that. We'll see.