Melloncollie and my Infinite Sadness
The past few weeks have been really hard for me and my family, but I think I should write some of my thoughts before everything passes and I end up forgetting. March hasn't been a very forgiving month. Everything has been so emotional up to now.
Last week the big event came and we were supported by close friends and family. The day before presented me with an opportunity to have confession with Fr. Mike. I knew I had man heavy burdens inside that still lingered, so I was really happy I got to talk to Fr. Mike. I think I just needed someone to listen unbiased and unassuming. It helped me immensely and the few words and way he spoke, even though they weren't novel or things I haven't told myself before, they were affirming and comforting. I really needed to hear them especially now.
Part of the burden I've been carying has been my past hatred for my paternal grandparents. I will use "hatred" because that was what I felt at the time. Deep seated and loathesome hatred. I hated them so much that I failed to acknowledge their ties or existence to me. Of course hating people is never good and it takes up a lot of energy. I eventually let those feelings go and forgave whatever vices they had and asked for forgiveness on the things I've done. Our relationship has never been the same since that one incident many years ago. I was never close to them to begin with, but that one event just put a wall between them and myself that will never really go away. For those who know me, I am not one to hold a grudge, but being hurt that deeply triggered all the negative feelings and actions I have never let out.
Now I've accepted how things are and how things will never be. Sometimes, no matter how horrible or how oppressed they made me and my family feel, I can't help but look now and feel so sorry for them. I know there is a reason why God allows certain things to happen, and I believe that we reap what we sow. I forgave my grandparents a long time ago, because I couldn't handle the pain of hating someone else and allowing their emptiness consume me. I love them, because of the father they gave me. For whatever little love they ever showed to me, I will be thankful and accept, because that was all they could give.
Last week they both attended the ceremony, and in a way, I avoided them. I felt uncomfortable. I still do. Even though past is past, my parents can no longer force their children to come and visit their grandparents. To be honest, most of my interactions with them are formalities and pleasantries. It makes me feel a bit guilty and sad that it has been reduced to this, but whenever I think about everything else that has happened and the things that will never change, I just get frustraited. I feel that it is better to let things go and allow things to happen as they are. No use in forcing yourself to be nice or be affectionate when you really can't. It's not like they ever were the affectionate type anyway.
Two days after the ceremony, my grandmother went for her biweekly dialysis and went into a coma. I was sick that evening and I saw my dad come home early. No one told us why he was home so early. He usually says something, but I didn't bother to ask this time for some reason. The next day my mother told me what happened. The place my grandmother would get her dialysis from, the place that caused her to have difficulty in breathing, finally caused her worst fear. She was known to complain and whine a lot, but I don't know why you would bring your family member to a place that caused her to have difficulty breathing (imaginary or not). My father soon saw me that evening and asked my mom if I knew yet. Apparently not many knew yet, not even my siblings and some of my fathers'. When I found out I was scared. I knew she might not make it.
I've seen it time and again, the older person would have numerous ailments, very old, carying a heavy burden, and finally a complication will arise and they fall into a coma. Once in a coma, the sign is never good. My grandmother is pushing 80 years old has high blood pressure and diabetes among other things. She has survived two mastectomies and chemotherapy for breastcancer. She is a tough woman who's undergone so many things. One thing I am very glad for is her being closer to my dad after all these years even though it's not exactly the same. I'm also happy she was able to see her two young grandchildren from her youngest son. I'm grateful that they made up before all this happened. I think the only thing that is really holding her back from going peacefully is her favorite son's jealous feelings.
She is still in a coma, much to everyone's dismay. What makes me feel even worse is I haven't visited her yet. My father no longer tells us to go and check on her even though I know he hopes we do. I will visit her tomorrow. I took it upon myself to ask where to find her. Before I had an excuse saying "I didn't know what room" or "No one told me" or "I didn't know she was still at the hospital". I think my dad has come to terms with the possibility of her dying. I can't imagine how hard it has been on him. I know my father loves her very much. On the second day of her coma, my dad and I ate luch together and he kept on rambling on about something inconsequential. I normally wouldn't pay too much attention, but I let him go on and on. I knew it was his own way of coping with his pain. Talking about other things and thinking of simpler and happier times allowed my father to relive the joy he felt when he was younger. It was painful to see it, more so than to see him in a completely solemn and pensive state.
On Thursday my cousin and I had some dinner and a heart to heart talk. I told him our grandmother was in a coma and he was in shock and yet didn't really know how to react. This I can't really understand because he grew up in her care and yet I don't know how he's feeling about this whole thing. I guess he's distanced himself from them as well, just as their other grandchildren have done throughout the years.
Today I spoke to my mother about a few things and mentioned how she and my sister went to visit my grandmother for the first time since she was hospitalized. I felt an ache after I found out she had a seizure two days ago and is now in a near dead state. Hearing my mother's description of my grandmother in comparison to how her father, my grandfather, died just put really disturbing images in my head. My father's mother, currently is a shell of her former self. Stiff, cold, and nonresponsive. I don't want to see her like that. I remember thinking to myself a few years back that I didn't care or wouldn't feel anything if either of them died. I knew I would feel sorry for my father, but that would be it. I don't think I can say the same thing now. No son should have to see their mother and father in such pain. She may not have been the best mother, but she did what she knew. We've already had a death in the family in the past two weeks and a loss two weeks before that. I really don't want to see another.
Last week the big event came and we were supported by close friends and family. The day before presented me with an opportunity to have confession with Fr. Mike. I knew I had man heavy burdens inside that still lingered, so I was really happy I got to talk to Fr. Mike. I think I just needed someone to listen unbiased and unassuming. It helped me immensely and the few words and way he spoke, even though they weren't novel or things I haven't told myself before, they were affirming and comforting. I really needed to hear them especially now.
Part of the burden I've been carying has been my past hatred for my paternal grandparents. I will use "hatred" because that was what I felt at the time. Deep seated and loathesome hatred. I hated them so much that I failed to acknowledge their ties or existence to me. Of course hating people is never good and it takes up a lot of energy. I eventually let those feelings go and forgave whatever vices they had and asked for forgiveness on the things I've done. Our relationship has never been the same since that one incident many years ago. I was never close to them to begin with, but that one event just put a wall between them and myself that will never really go away. For those who know me, I am not one to hold a grudge, but being hurt that deeply triggered all the negative feelings and actions I have never let out.
Now I've accepted how things are and how things will never be. Sometimes, no matter how horrible or how oppressed they made me and my family feel, I can't help but look now and feel so sorry for them. I know there is a reason why God allows certain things to happen, and I believe that we reap what we sow. I forgave my grandparents a long time ago, because I couldn't handle the pain of hating someone else and allowing their emptiness consume me. I love them, because of the father they gave me. For whatever little love they ever showed to me, I will be thankful and accept, because that was all they could give.
Last week they both attended the ceremony, and in a way, I avoided them. I felt uncomfortable. I still do. Even though past is past, my parents can no longer force their children to come and visit their grandparents. To be honest, most of my interactions with them are formalities and pleasantries. It makes me feel a bit guilty and sad that it has been reduced to this, but whenever I think about everything else that has happened and the things that will never change, I just get frustraited. I feel that it is better to let things go and allow things to happen as they are. No use in forcing yourself to be nice or be affectionate when you really can't. It's not like they ever were the affectionate type anyway.
Two days after the ceremony, my grandmother went for her biweekly dialysis and went into a coma. I was sick that evening and I saw my dad come home early. No one told us why he was home so early. He usually says something, but I didn't bother to ask this time for some reason. The next day my mother told me what happened. The place my grandmother would get her dialysis from, the place that caused her to have difficulty in breathing, finally caused her worst fear. She was known to complain and whine a lot, but I don't know why you would bring your family member to a place that caused her to have difficulty breathing (imaginary or not). My father soon saw me that evening and asked my mom if I knew yet. Apparently not many knew yet, not even my siblings and some of my fathers'. When I found out I was scared. I knew she might not make it.
I've seen it time and again, the older person would have numerous ailments, very old, carying a heavy burden, and finally a complication will arise and they fall into a coma. Once in a coma, the sign is never good. My grandmother is pushing 80 years old has high blood pressure and diabetes among other things. She has survived two mastectomies and chemotherapy for breastcancer. She is a tough woman who's undergone so many things. One thing I am very glad for is her being closer to my dad after all these years even though it's not exactly the same. I'm also happy she was able to see her two young grandchildren from her youngest son. I'm grateful that they made up before all this happened. I think the only thing that is really holding her back from going peacefully is her favorite son's jealous feelings.
She is still in a coma, much to everyone's dismay. What makes me feel even worse is I haven't visited her yet. My father no longer tells us to go and check on her even though I know he hopes we do. I will visit her tomorrow. I took it upon myself to ask where to find her. Before I had an excuse saying "I didn't know what room" or "No one told me" or "I didn't know she was still at the hospital". I think my dad has come to terms with the possibility of her dying. I can't imagine how hard it has been on him. I know my father loves her very much. On the second day of her coma, my dad and I ate luch together and he kept on rambling on about something inconsequential. I normally wouldn't pay too much attention, but I let him go on and on. I knew it was his own way of coping with his pain. Talking about other things and thinking of simpler and happier times allowed my father to relive the joy he felt when he was younger. It was painful to see it, more so than to see him in a completely solemn and pensive state.
On Thursday my cousin and I had some dinner and a heart to heart talk. I told him our grandmother was in a coma and he was in shock and yet didn't really know how to react. This I can't really understand because he grew up in her care and yet I don't know how he's feeling about this whole thing. I guess he's distanced himself from them as well, just as their other grandchildren have done throughout the years.
Today I spoke to my mother about a few things and mentioned how she and my sister went to visit my grandmother for the first time since she was hospitalized. I felt an ache after I found out she had a seizure two days ago and is now in a near dead state. Hearing my mother's description of my grandmother in comparison to how her father, my grandfather, died just put really disturbing images in my head. My father's mother, currently is a shell of her former self. Stiff, cold, and nonresponsive. I don't want to see her like that. I remember thinking to myself a few years back that I didn't care or wouldn't feel anything if either of them died. I knew I would feel sorry for my father, but that would be it. I don't think I can say the same thing now. No son should have to see their mother and father in such pain. She may not have been the best mother, but she did what she knew. We've already had a death in the family in the past two weeks and a loss two weeks before that. I really don't want to see another.
posted by shine
at
Sunday, March 19, 2006
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