it's okay

I haven't written in a while. I haven't had time. Every now and then something hits me, though, and I feel the need to write about it. I see everyone ready for 2021 and wanting it to be a better year, but in my heart I know it's going to be heartbreaking and devastating. Of course I will remain positive and treasure the time I have with my grandparents. In that way I am so lucky. But I am realistic, as well, and I know they are not getting stronger. Now is when they need me the most.

I've always loved being alone, but having grammy and grampy here is even more isolating than when I had the house to myself. I go through a rollercoaster of emotions on any given day and I think it's starting to take a toll on my emotional well being. I won't let them see me cry. They don't deserve that. They deserve to be happy and free of any pain. They deserve to feel wanted and welcome. They deserve the world. I just hope I can give it to them.

I am overly emotional these days. If you know me, you'll probably think that's nothing new. But this is different. I feel something in the universe and I have no idea what it's trying to tell me. For now, I just cry. I cry when I can't get the paint can open, I cry when Christos asks me to go to dinner with him, I cry when grammy leaves a tissue in her pants pocket and the dryer is filled with tiny strips of paper.

It's that feeling in the back of my throat. It's always there. I'm constantly on the verge of sobbing and it's not one of those good cry's. It's sadness. My grandfather is dying before my eyes. My grandmother isn't there anymore.

Grampy's body is failing him. His mind is completely intact and that's what makes it so horrible to witness. He doesn't want to die. But I don't know if his body is going to fight for him. I watch him sleep and check to make sure his chest is moving. I check the cameras all night. I monitor his behavior constantly and google every sign and symptom. We started palliative care; it's a step before hospice. They know how to speak to him and ensure that his wishes are being fulfilled, without telling him that he doesn't have much longer. The nurse asked what his goals were and he said he wanted to get stronger. I'm devastated to think that it's not going to happen. He wants to climb the stairs. He's always talking about the stairs. As I'm writing this, the emotional connection of the stairs to Heaven hit me. I'm crying again. Maybe I'm silly and maybe I analyze things too much and search for deeper meanings that aren't there. But maybe there's something to it. Maybe he's seeking an inner strength to prepare for what's next. He's asked me recently if I believed in all that. He said, "Do you really think that guy made the water open right up?" I said, "Absolutely." I told him that I wanted to believe it and that's why I did. That just because we've never seen it, doesn't mean it's not possible. That we need something to believe in.

I feel better that I've told him that. I want him to know that it's okay to believe. And it's okay to be scared. Maybe he's preparing his mind and body to climb the stairs. Until then, I'm going to give him all the hot chocolate he wants. I'm going to smother his pancakes in sugar-free syrup and pile on the "I can't believe it's not butter" until you can't see the bread. I'll ask him if he needs anything, but I won't push. I won't pester him about changing his clothes or drinking his water. I'll just be his granddaughter and I'll care for him like he did me. And I'll help him climb the stairs.

crying again.

xoxo

Tayla