Yeah, I know I posted earlier, but let's throw the Blog Rules out the window and post twice in one day.
I thought you might like to know that I just visited my Grandma. The one who is supposed to be in hospice, which in my mind means withering peacefully. The one who yesterday didn't "want to be here anymore" and was so sick they finally agreed to give her her wish. The one who I love.
She was bright eyed and - in her charmingly bossy way - giving orders about what should go where in her room. Her color is back. She asked to go off morphine. She ate beef barley soup for lunch. She wanted her phone turned around so she could answer it herself.
I told her that one of the gladioli I'd planted was blooming on the patio, just out of her range of sight. It was purple. She said she'd never seen a purple one. So I went outside, cut it for her and put it in a vase. She was pleased.
I know that at this point, this situation could go on for a long time or a short time. I go about doing things while feeling that I'm doing nothing. When I'm not at the nursing home, I want to be there and once I get there, deep down I feel restless and soon want to leave.
I can feel the edges of relief and joy just beyond my reach. I want to get happy and forget the fear and sadness of the past week.
It's only been a week.
But I know I should just be thankful for today. She's having a good day. I hope she has as many of them as she wishes.