A Rest Home for My Guilt

[Justin Davis]

For the most part, my grandparents raised me. I lived off and on with them for most of my life and finally moved in with them when I was 15 and stayed there until I was 20. In 2001, my grandfather died. It was one of the most heartbreaking moments of my life. He had been taking care of my grandmother who had a major stroke a few years before that. She needed full attention, so she had to have a caretaker visit her daily after my grandfather died. A few years ago, she moved into a nursing home. Or senior citizen's care center, if you wish. Not long after that, I moved away from Gulfport, Mississippi, and the short drive to her nursing home, to Austin, Texas. In the over two years I've been here, I've returned home only once, during this past Thanksgiving. I saw her then, and she looked about the same as she did when I last saw her. She's in a different nursing home now, but I only found that out by calling her old one and being told she wasn't there anymore. Because I'm not on speaking terms with my mother, no one told me my grandmother had been moved to another home. Something similar happened again recently when she was moved to another room at her current residence. I had to ask the attending nurse to put a note in my grandmother's file to alert me if she's moved in the future.

Now, I love my grandmother, but she has little to nothing to say when I call her. The conversations last an average of 10 minutes. Mostly, she talks about how she can't wait to leave the nursing home. She's under the delusion that it's a temporary situation and has little idea how long she's actually lived there. Also, she asks constantly when I'm coming home. I've stopped trying to explain that I live here now, can't come back to visit any time soon, and how expensive it might be. Instead, I say, "I'll come when I get the chance, but I'm not sure when that will be." I know I should call her at least once a week, but as of right now, it's been two weeks since I last spoke to her. I've gone longer though. Not that that's anything to be proud of, but it's true. Like right now, I'm thinking I should call her, but I haven't done so yet. At the end of every phone conversation with her, I hang up the phone with a mixture of happiness, guilt, sad realization, and acceptance.

I'd like to call her up and say hello more often, but it's hard when I know the distance to saying goodbye is so short.

[howyadoin]

Not a good situation there. My own grandmother spent a decade in a nursing home, with Alzheimer's. The last 6 or 7 of those years, she had no idea who anybody was, and was barely conscious, really. When she died this past October, the family felt relieved more than anything; for a woman as formerly active as my grandmother, this was a pretty shitty way to go.

As for your situation, it's not an easy position to be in, certainly. It sounds like she's really your only living parent, when you think about it. So I dunno - it sounds like you're making an effort, but that the effort doesn't feel like enough to you. The question is, which will be harder: making more of an effort, or living with the guilt of not making more of an effort when she's gone?

[Sir Tim Drake]

You have my sympathy, Justin.

[Charles RB]

That's a horrible situation to be in, and you've got my sympathies.

I think you'd be better off in the long run calling her regularly, because when she's gone or close to it you'll wish you had - I didn't visit my maternal granddad as much as I could when he was ill, and I wish I had.

[Justin Davis]

Not a good situation there. My own grandmother spent a decade in a nursing home, with Alzheimer's. The last 6 or 7 of those years, she had no idea who anybody was, and was barely conscious, really. When she died this past October, the family felt relieved more than anything; for a woman as formerly active as my grandmother, this was a pretty shitty way to go.

As for your situation, it's not an easy position to be in, certainly. It sounds like she's really your only living parent, when you think about it. So I dunno - it sounds like you're making an effort, but that the effort doesn't feel like enough to you. The question is, which will be harder: making more of an effort, or living with the guilt of not making more of an effort when she's gone?

When it comes down to it, that sums it all up, doesn't it? Obviously, I'd regret it more if I didn't try at all. It can just be pretty taxing is all.

[howyadoin]

When it comes down to it, that sums it all up, doesn't it? Obviously, I'd regret it more if I didn't try at all. It can just be pretty taxing is all.Yeah, no doubt. My family's got a Yahoo group that we use to stay in touch, and we'd get weekly updates from my uncle, and they were horribly depressing. How he managed to keep a brave face on in the face of all that is beyond me.

For what it's worth, it does sound like you're making an effort, though. Which is more than a lot of people would do.