My Grandpa Pete (Nelson Peter Paul)(I love his super long name) went in for a triple bypass this morning. I got a voicemail from my aunt while I was at work basically just telling me that he was out of surgery alright and that he was in ICU he hadn't woken up yet but the doctor said he was doing just fine. Which I'm really relieved to here, needless to say. But it really got me thinking.
As we get older and loose track of family that we once were so close to are we really just yiping ourselves out of truely meaningful relationships?
When my parents got divorced I was eleven. My mom also remarried when I was eleven. But my parents were on again, off again for a few years before that happened. Usually, when my mom decided she'd had enough of my dads drinking, and my dad had had enough of my moms bitching he would move in with my grandfather and his sister Ellen. It was like going to some sort of childhood heaven. There was always Ice cream in the freezer in endless amounts, with more toppings that a child could imagin. My brother and I could play imaginary games anywhere we wanted. We could watch TV in my grandpa's bed (that always smelled like his copenhegan(sp?)). They played with us and taught us things. In fact the only person I ever remember helping me with my home work is my grand father (It was math, 5th grade). However after my parents divorce was finalized my dad moved and we still got to see them at least every couple of weeks.... but then my grandpa moved to another town 3 hrs away.... and then it was once a year and now its barely ever at all. He never calls, we never call. Its a vicious cycle thats constantly repeating itself.
I feel bad. The last few years my grandpa has gotten a little "funny". He seen me in a grocery store once and called me Audrey (on of my dads cousins 30 yrs my senior) and actually shook my hand when I went into hug him. It broke my heart. I've never forgotten it and as I left the grocery store rather abruptly it really changed my relationship with him. I know his head just probably wasn't in the right place but still...hearts break fastest by the ones you love.
My aunt called me yesterday to let me know that Grandpa Pete was going in for surgery. I thought it would be a good idea to call him, you know wish the "best of luck" that sorta crap that you say to people when you care but it doesn't really affect your life. The phone call was probably the best thing that I could have done. It was the most normal conversation I had had with him in years. The thing that frightened me was how scared he sounded. I started thinking about all of the reasons that I loved him so long ago. And I still love him now. But now that I talked to him I feel less detached. This sounds like a horrible thing to say but what if he doesn't make it? Would it be better to feel atached or unattached? Even if I felt unattached I'd feel guilty for feeling that way. But it would hurt less. But that wouldn't be me. One of the problems with me, even as a child was that I always took things way to hard. I'd cry just because people were yelling, even if it wasn't at me. I still get way to wrapped up in things but I've just started becoming better at hiding them. I've gotten better at running away then facing them head on. This post has turned into something about me when it wasn't meant to be but.. I guess once you start typing not much can stop you. I guess what I really want to say after all of that is that I think all people take love for granted. Maybe if there was more love in the world, more feeling the news wouldn't always be about murders and killing but maybe, it could be a little brighter just a few days here and there. So that we all didn't have to feel so dark when we think about the world outside of our protective bubbles.
After reading this post I finally get what my comp 1 prof. told me over a year ago about the way I reach conclusions. Its like I'm pulling them out of thin air and I need to learn how to communicate the process I go through to figure it out. Maybe someday I'll learn to communicate better.
1 comment:
I've had similar experiences with my mom's side. We used to go to a Christmas party at my uncle's every year, but after my folks' split, and during my teens, I saw progressively less of them. Now we see them at funerals. I really don't feel too beat up over it, I guess with my family that's just life. You grow older, you may grow apart.
My major conclusion was that people are so varied in their basic makeup that a good family relationship is defined in several different ways. I get along great with my dad now, and I talk to him maybe once a week, if that. When Karissa and I first met, she was just beginning to get along with her mom again.
Anyway, I thought I'd offer my insight.
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