|Me and Amma Selfie, Circa yesterday.|
I went to visit my grandma yesterday.
She recently moved into a nursing home; a necessary adjustment, but a hard transition for her and for some members of my family. Me for sure.
I’ve been taking this whole experience extremely hard. I know it’s a progression of life, and I know that what is happening is happening in the best interest of my grandma. Still, the feelings that come along with this type of change are difficult. It’s a sort of grieving process that I didn’t expect.
There are parts of this story that I am not going to tell; not because they are bad, but because I need to respect my family, namely my grandmother. Her privacy and dignity are of the utmost importance. In writing about this, I can and will only speak to my feelings and experiences.
I knew this was coming. I’ve known for a long time, yet I’m trying my damndest to hold onto the past. Though I realize this is impossible, letting go doesn’t get easier with logic.
Logic is meaningless when you love somebody.
My grandma and I are close; we have always had this special relationship that I can’t even explain, let alone compare to any I’ve ever had with anyone else. It’s like we are the same spirit, sixty years apart. It sounds whimsical, but that’s what it feels like.
She has always been a part of my life. To me, she is forever.
My grandma has never let me down, or hurt me. She has always believed that I could do anything, and has encouraged me in my endeavors no matter how foolish or ambitious they were. She is the type of person that has clipped every article I’ve ever written; meticulously saved every card or gift I’ve ever given her; Appreciated every visit I’ve ever paid to her...
She loves me and I love her.
As we sift through her things, the sentimental value of the entirety of her home has almost become too much. Her apartment, her things, her smell, that feeling of being home... It’s all being packed away, divided, and moved. It’s just stuff, but it’s her stuff.
I can’t seem to get passed that. I don’t want to let it go.
This move, this change; it’s the best thing for her. Though she waivers in her feelings about it all, I know that she is being taken care of, and I know that there are aspects of this new life that she already prefers.
Perhaps I am just being extremely selfish. I scold myself for that, knowing full well that this transition was overdue. I guess I just wish that time would just stop for a little while longer.