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Let's confront the inevitable... |
MY GRANDMA RUBY I cannot help but worry about Grandma Ruby. I think about her often. Some call her mean, and she has a mean streak. She was eighty-eight last November. For most of my life she lived in Texas. Her husband died about thirty years ago, but she stayed. About five or more years ago, my parents drove to Texas and brought her back to Daphne, Alabama to live with them. This was the second time they tried this. But jealous of my dad and never really liking him, she did mean little things just to aggravate him. After a while, he started doing little mean things just to keep it even. She caused so much friction between my parents, they had to find her another place to live. She refused to live in Daphne or Fairhope, which would have been nearby. The only place suitable was in Mobile --- about an hour away. Because of the distance as well as her temperament, visits were limited. By this time, she refused to be in the same room with my dad and wouldn't dream of riding in the same car with him. She liked to take walks. With an average build, her back was nice and straight, and she had a strong constitution. One day as she tried to hang a new shower curtain, she hurt her back. She has been hunched over ever since. That is when the doctors found out she has osteoporosis. A few years ago, she went to the gynecologist for a routine checkup and they found cancer. She had a vaginectomy and part of her bladder and bowel were removed. Her bladder was tied to her bowel to keep it in place. Now she hurries to the bathroom to keep from wetting herself and wears Depends, a hard thing for a person with a lot of vanity. Just recently she fell and now uses a walker for fear of falling again. She refuses to admit she lives in a nursing home and insists she lives at an assisted living facility. While throughout my lifetime, she was always sending notes, cards, pictures --- on holidays and just to keep in touch --- now she can barely write her name. I sent her some self-addressed, stamped envelopes and she has not written a word --- not a line, a note, nothing. She loves to take pictures and always fancied herself a photographer. I asked her to send me some pictures (she has boxes and boxes)---nothing. She lives in Ohio now, near her only living son, my uncle. Since I am in Florida where my family is --- daughter, grandsons, job --- I am not able to visit too often. I try to call her at least once a week. When I call, she constantly repeats herself, telling me about everything in her room --- over and over within the same telephone call. She tells me my Uncle visits and how good he is to her. Before we say good-bye she asks me to please call her, reminding me she has a telephone but cannot call out. (A cousin bought her a cell phone, but she could not use it. She could not even figure out how to answer it, let alone make a call. So she had the phone sent back.) She does not like to leave her room now because a lot of the other people in the home do not know who they are or where they are. That scares her --- though she would never say so --- that could be her one day soon. She does not want to die. I am looking forward to visiting her at Easter if she lives that long. |
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