My grandfather is?dying
Posted by Peaches on March 30, 2013 ? 6 Comments?
And I should care more than I do.
At least, that?s what I?ve been taught. You?re supposed to care about your family. You?re supposed to stand by them, be concerned about them, and feel something when things go very well or very badly for them. When one of them is on their death bed, you?re supposed to be distraught. You?re supposed to know some of their likes and dislikes, talents, beliefs?something.
All those sentiments are very true for one side of my family. They are the living definition of family for me and I love Facebook even more because it allows me to remain close to all these people even though we are spread across wide distances. (I add that because so many people complain about the superficiality that it breeds.)
On this side of the family, first, second, and third cousins, aunts, great aunts and uncles, and especially grandparents, always know what is going on in my life and I in theirs. 
They call and send cards and I do the same (when we can and Facebook isn?t just easier). If somebody is diagnosed with cancer, everybody sends flowers or sweets and that person is never alone unless they request it. If they need blood transfusions or a kidney or something, somebody has it and it is given. At the yearly reunion (which for the ones who live mostly in the same area is just an excuse to have a party because they still see each other regularly) there is always waaaay to much food. We?ve had to start inviting good family friends into the fold just to get rid of some of the food. There?s in-fighting and gossiping, and sibling rivalry between generations much older than mine, but it?s all encased in a tough-nut shell of love; of? ?this is my tribe?. I?ve never been ignored because they somehow found me shameful or revered because of anything I?ve accomplished. I?ve always just been treated as me, occasionally as ?B?s granddaughter?.
If one of my grandparents on that side were dying, I would be home right now, instead of writing this blog; damn the consequences.
That is my family.
The other side of my ?family?, the one this grandfather is from, has never shown me any of that. None of the cousins, aunts, uncles, or either of the grandparents regularly treated me as anything but a nuisance, or perhaps a smudge on the family name. I remember being really sick in elementary school once and neither of my parents could be reached at work and my grandparents on the other side of the family were out of town so the school eventually called these grandparents to come get me from school. I was placed on a couch, given a puke bucket, not allowed to watch TV or drink clear soda (water only), and warned I shouldn?t stain the furniture, and that I was to lay still and be quiet until my mother could come get me. All in all, they?d tout their relation to me when it was convenient; if I had just lost a bunch of weight, or was going to a school dance with some local leader?s son, or when I got accepted to university in London. Otherwise, they seemed to prefer pretending I didn?t exist, at least not on their family tree, so I have trouble feeling close to them.
But now that grandfather is dying.
My mom pressured me to call him. So I did.
?Kellogg? brand ?candle stick? style telephone from c. early 20th century. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
It was the most awkward 3 minutes I?ve had in a long time and I was just fired a month ago.
He asked who it was and I told him and he had to think for a while. (I guess there are 18 of us grandchildren, even though I have been around for nearly 27 years and he isn?t senile.)
He told me I hadn?t called in a while. (I guess he remembers something! I did call once a few years ago but he sounded like I had interrupted something and indicated he had to go quickly so that phone call lasted maybe 30 seconds longer than this one. I was trying to wish him a Merry Christmas.)
I asked how he was doing and he told me (he?s sick, duh, and hoping to get better) and I asked what he?s been up to (coming home early from Florida because he?s sick, don?t I feel like an idiot).
He asked if I was coming home soon. (I just started a new job two weeks ago. I told him this and said I couldn?t get any time off right now. I told him I was planning to come home for Christmas.)
He asked what my new job was. (I said I worked at a newspaper.)
Oh? (Yeah, grandpa, I?m a reporter.)
He asked if that?s what I got my degree for and his tone sounded funny, but to be fair his voice is raspy now. (Yeah. I have a journalism degree.)
?You finished that?? he asked and sounded a little incredulous. (Ouch. Yeah. Yeah, I finished it.) ?Well, I guess that?s good.? (I?m super duper fucking psyched but yeah, I guess that?s good.)
He reminded me Christmas is a long ways off. (It is. It?s the best I can do without spending thousands of dollars or putting my job and future at risk and leaving my husband behind for who knows how long. I didn?t say that last part. I just said it?s the soonest I could get time off. Enter even more awkward pauses.)
He said he had seen my mother and sister and they were going to dinner the next day. He said my mother has been really helpful in caring for him. (Umm?good. I?m glad she?s been helping. How do I respond to that?)
That last bit sort of went on loop a couple times. I still don?t know what to say to that. Maybe, ?I wish I could be there to help too?. I can?t, so it?s just words. I don?t have a clue.
Then I told him I loved him and he returned the gesture and that was pretty much it.
Until he called back 30 seconds later?and said he?d dialed the wrong number and excused himself quickly and hung up. Part of me will always wonder if he meant to dial again and say something more, and just didn?t at the last minute, or if it was an honest accident. Maybe he bumped the redial button.
I?m just left feeling more confused and cold every time I speak to somebody on that side of the family. Really, if one or two people would just reach out warmly, I would reach back so strongly with both arms.
I hate feeling so rejected and outside the loop, so it?s easier to be angry and then numb about the whole situation then walk around feeling not-good-enough all the time. I felt not-good-enough for a lot of years.
Now I just don?t let their opinion of me matter to me. This, sadly, means a lot of things start to not matter.
I?ve tried to summon tears for my impending grandfather?s death and the only tears I could summon were tears from old rejection wounds because he never gave me enough of himself to have something to mourn.
I felt the same way when his wife, my grandmother, died over ten years ago.
I wasn?t alone in that sentiment either. I?ve never been to another funeral with so few tears shed.
So, if anything can be taken from this whole sorry situation, it?s that if you care you should show it and if you don?t, you should at least still be kind. You?ll only live as long as your memory, so you better leave some people behind who want to remember you.
Now what to do about the guilt of not caring like I should?
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Filed under Blogging, Life, Opinion, The plunge
Source: http://alateralplunge.wordpress.com/2013/03/30/my-grandfather-is-dying/
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