DNR

DNR

Today I got a call from my dad telling me that my grandmother isn’t improving. They are taking her off all life support and basically letting her go.

At best my grandmother would have been in a wheelchair and need constant taking care of. She never would have wanted that. My grandmother has been the most independent woman I’ve ever known. I wonder if I get some of my wisdom and power from her?

Her husband died years ago, and one of her children. I don’t think she has many friends left, and at best they are the kind that randomly call just to keep in touch.

I wonder what death feels like. Is she trapped in her body right now, unable to communicate but just see what’s around her? Can she even move her eyes to see anything anymore? Maybe she’s just floating above her body, waiting. I wonder if this like when you are really excited to go on a vacation, sitting in the airport, waiting for boarding. She is just waiting for her plane to take off. I wonder if she is trying to say good-bye, and excited to say hello to her dead family and friends again?

Where do we go when we die? Do we just evaporate into air and our energy gets spread out? Do “we” actually go somewhere or just carry on? This isn’t a question of God, because God exists in all these ideas. How can everyone that’s ever lived die and yet me know so little about it?

It’s raining in New York City today, the rain is pouring down. It’s the kind of day that you just sit inside and hope it stops soon. Being in the rain reminded me of how great it feels to let the rain fall on you. I took my umbrella and let the drops cover me. It’s this feeling that everything will be ok. Everything can be washed away, and we can all start over. My grandmother will never stand in the rain again. She will never feel the drops hit her skin and feel like everything is ok. She will never smell flowers again. My grandmother will never sit in front of The Price is Right and yell out the prices, or turn the page of another bad mystery novel.

I think she is ready to go. I think she has been ready for a while. I wish I could have known my grandmother as a person, I wonder what secrets she has and stories that she’s never told anyone.

The last time I spoke to my grandma was December 2nd, and only for 5 minutes. I told her that I bought my plane ticket and couldn’t wait to see her. She was excited and told me that she loved me.

I guess I’m going to be waiting for that plane longer then I had expected.

My Grandma is Dying.

I am supposed to go and visit my grandma next Monday. Not in 4 days, but in 11. I've was planning on going to visit her a few months, but I kept putting it off. It's not that I found reasons not to, as much as that I was going through a break up and then I started a new job.

I've been working on the Artist's Way and part of that is grabbing life by the balls. I've been trying to keep in touch with people that I've lost touch with and stay connected with those that I love. I called my grandma and bought a plane ticket to go and visit her for Christmas. My plan was to leave on the 21st from NY, visit her for a few days and then head to Michigan to see my parents and sisters.

I got a call today.. my grandma is in the hospital. My aunt, that I haven't had a conversation with in years, found her laying unconscious on the floor. She wasn't moving, but she was alive. She called an ambulance and now my grandmother is laying in a hospital bed. She isn't talking, or moving, and I don't know what that means. Is it a coma, can you be in a coma at 90?

I feel sad.

But I also don't feel much of anything. I love her. I have had some great conversations with her, and I'm 25. I've known her all of my life, so why do I feel so little? Should I feel more? Should I be crying in a corner? Should tears be streaming down my face? Why do I feel guilty for feeling less?

My grandma was married once, he died before I was born. She never remarried. She lived the rest of her life alone, what if that happens to me? Am I dead inside? Sometimes I think so.

She loved mystery novels, the really shitty ones that only old people read. She LOVES them. She would read them all day long, I think they were her family in a sense. She made me want to read. I saw how much she loved them and how much she took away from them. She made me want to explore the world, explore things beyond my backyard.

I never saw my grandma cry.

Why aren't I crying now? Is it a missing gene? Why can I cry over some stupid relationship that didn't work out, but when it comes to death in the family I am like stone? Why do I feel like I'm outside looking in?

My grandma loves chocolate covered cherries and those dry cookies that come in a tin.

My grandma asked me a few years ago, "Do you have a special friend?" She knew I was gay and cared enough to ask me if I had someone special in my life. I didn't. I told her so, and I could see sadness in her eyes. I reminded her that she didn't have a boyfriend either, she laughed and said that she had enough romance in her life. Can you ever have enough romance in your life?

What if I'm 90 and die alone on my kitchen floor?

Finally, some tears.

Blueberry Muffins

So, I'm making blueberry muffins today. And I'm very excited. It's been a while since I've made them and I love them to death. Might not seem important, but, I'm really dorky. So, it makes perfect sense! :-)

T

Crushing

I just had this idea
Maybe it was a vision?
I saw the same place
Maybe a couple new windows
A dog
A life
An idea
Honestly, I thought it'd fit really nice
I was under the influence
Maybe you could change
Maybe I could leave myself
Again
Maybe abandon it all
Again
I thought maybe
Under this influence
I thought maybe we could be the dream
This idea
This thing
This everything in the world that says we can't
That's what I wanted from you
I wanted you to complete my fantasy
And now I know
It's completely unrealistic
Its not your fault
It's all me
I wanted it perfect
I wanted what you showed me
I wanted what you said you could be
Not what you showed me
I wanted life
I wanted fearlessness
I wanted your freedom
I wanted to help you and share your pain
I wanted to be there for you when you were sad
I wanted to hold your hand
I swear I did
And life seems unfair
With every snowflake I see
I keep thinking you might be hiding
But you're not
I keep thinking
A snowflake
We'll call it a sign
I keep thinking one day we will be safe and sound
But like every flake
Every piece that I see
We are both fragile
And we both clearly break at every seam.