TheBanyanTree: Waiting

[Monique]

The email from my brother, the one who prefers not to speak to me at
all, was more information than I'd managed to receive from any other
source. It is like I thought - Grandpa is existing in a cocoon. At
least, it seems as if he is. He is waiting. He is bored, and he is
unable to do much of anything.. There is not much he can do now. He
insists on getting up and using his walker to get around, won't stay in
his room, but he doesn't eat very much, and he is very weak. He can
converse for up to an hour, but he tires so easily now. Mike, my
brother, visits Grandpa a couple of times a week, and he seems to be the
local emergency contact, since both of Grandpa's daughters live out of
state.
 
Last week I sent my mother an email asking how things were going. She
and her sister have planned a party for Grandpa's birthday next month,
and she had been quite excited about it. I've been wondering if a party
is the wisest choice at this time, since Grandpa is not that strong that
he can socialize with all those people at once. Or is the party not for
him? Several days later I received a response from her. She said that
she was busy, she'd been preparing for a Labor Day event at her house,
so many people were coming, and there was so much to do, and where was
she going to put everyone?
 
This would have all been useful information if I cared, but I didn't - I
wasn't invited. What I'd wanted to know was how Grandpa was, but she did
not mention him at all. A couple of days later I tried again, the same
time I tried emailing Mike for information. I'm getting nothing up here,
I'd like to know. Mike responded the next day with what was, for him,
quite a lengthy email. Still nothing from her. 
 
She went to see her father a few weeks ago because he has not been doing
well. Stayed a few days then went back to Montana. Said she wished she
could stay longer, but it was "impossible." 
 
Of course it was. I don't know why it was impossible, but many things in
our history have been impossible for reasons I never did understand and
I've come to realize I never will. 
 
Excuse me. I stopped for just a moment so I could send Grandpa an email.
He doesn't respond much anymore - he feels as if he has nothing to say,
his days empty of anything he would wish to report on. (Unlike my
father, who has no hesitation about reporting every doctor visit, every
nuance of his eliminatory habits, every creaking joint. My grandfather
has no interest in these sorts of things and just doesn't talk about
them - he's used to a rich life.) But I still keep sending him email so
he knows I'm here. I don't expect a response, I just let him know I'm
still here thinking of him. I'm sure, if he insists on getting up and
walking about the facility, that he still reads his email. He would not
give up on that easily. I tell him how well I'm doing because I know he
likes that. I speak of good things only. 
 
I wonder if he sees his wife much. I'm sure he does. He still walks over
to see her in her part of the facility. I wonder if she knows him
anymore. She knows not much of anything else going on around her,
doesn't remember people, places, things, but when everything else left
she still knew him. 
 
My brother was to talk to Grandpa today about his "birthday party." He,
my brother, thinks that if people want to see him, they should do it
now, individually, and not gang up on him on September 18th, a ravenous
horde of people looking for a party when the guest of honor is too tired
to stay awake for more than an hour. Maybe he wants that though. Just
because Mike and I cannot imagine it does not mean anything. So Mike was
going to talk to him, and then tell my mother what he though.
 
Why my mother can't ask her own father about it is beyond me, but I do
suspect that the thought never occurred to her. It's his birthday, he
will have a party because that is what we do, we mark each passing year
as if counting down to some glorious event, and it is, for her, an
excuse for things to continue as they are. It is how she has assumed she
will see me this year, for I cannot risk forgoing yet another milestone.

 
I saw Grandpa in June. It was not his birthday. It was when fortunate
circumstances and a good friend collided to give me the opportunity. I
am glad I could go see him, and I would like to see him again. Mentally,
he is all there. He is articulate and intelligent and very in tune with
what's going on around him, and still very interested in other people.
It's his body that has given up on him. (Unlike his wife. Her mind, his
body. Between them, they make one excellent old person.) 
 
I do not want to see him with all those . . . other people hovering
around making merry. There are some of those other people I have
assiduously avoided because that is just how things are, and because our
relationships are better conducted at a distance - bury the hatchet,
yada yada yada . . . it's buried. It doesn't mean I have to keep
inflicting them on me, or me on them. We all have our own lives, after
all. 
 
What I really want to know is what Grandpa wants. That is what matters,
I think, and while I can sympathize with my mother wanting all her kids
together at one time, and her other daughter wants this too, she says,
though her actions don't say the same thing, and though I have an aunt
and her children and other cousin's from my deceased aunt and uncles who
think it is the thing to do, to get together, I don't care all that
much. I want to know what Grandpa wants. If anyone can find that out, it
would be Mike, I think.
 
Of course, then I have to get him to tell me what that is. That is the
difficult part.
 
I know, why don't I just call Grandpa and ask him? He can't hear on the
phone at all well. At all. And I can't see myself writing an email that
directly says, "What do you want? Do you want everyone to come to your
birthday party, or do you want everyone to come see you now, or do you
even care anymore?" Because he doesn't really answer his email anymore
anyway, and what kind of thing is that to ask someone?
 
Mike says that Grandpa accepts that he's on his way out, that he's just
waiting to die. I believe that, knowing Grandpa as I do. He never did
not enjoy life, he was never not enthusiastic about living life and
doing whatever he wanted to do. But he's also pragmatic and quite
attuned to reality, unlike his youngest daughter, who seems to exist on
another plane entirely. 
 
So we wait. My mother, I think, can not accept, or does not want to
accept, that waiting is what we're doing, so she ignores it. When I do
hear from her, for I'm sure I will eventually, she will talk as if
Grandpa's just having a bad day, as if he has a cold and with a little
rest he'll be all better. Her plans for a party with everyone there, her
children, her sister, her nephews and nieces (some of which she is far
closer to than her own children) will not easily change. She has too
much invested in it. 
 
Grandpa is 100 years old. On September 18th, 101. He is waiting.