*but when we wake, it's all been erased

and so it seems, only in dreams...*

(the grandest of them all, washington dc, 1944)

one:

i had a dream about my grandma last night.  or, moreso a series of dreams and seeing her was a part of them.  she looked how she used to look.  her face was full and bright.  her makeup done.  she looked like her.  something i've missed for a good few years.  now she looks old a lot of the time.  frazzled.  here but not.

in the dream she was out getting ice cream, something she always did when she lived at home.  she loves anything chocolate.  or peanut butter.  or both.  but mostly chocolate.  so, i don't know, it felt so good to see her until i woke up and realized i haven't seen her in months.  that i'll be seeing her in a week and a half.  i don't look forward to our visits as is evidenced by them being so few and far between.  but we've already been over the fact that i am selfish.  etc.  etc.

two:

i am mourning the news that polaroid is no longer making instant film.  oh, you already knew this?  yeah, i'm a bit slow on the uptake and such.  so i just found out yesterday.  and, in the true fashion of what this world is like, people are charging ridiculous amounts of money for a pack of 10 films.  this, to me, is just ultimate sadness.  polaroids are like pieces of art history.  they connect our pictures to our parents and grandparents.  and now...  i hope this changes.  i hope there is some sort of uprising because really.  digital pictures can only do so much.  give me instant!  give me uneditable!  uprising, commence!

oh sigh.

three:

tonight i will attempt to make chicken pot pie.  if it is glorious, there will be pictures and recounting and recipe-sharing.  if it is not glorious, there will be pizza.   :)

ciao, lovelies!

this one is about me being selfish and also self-loathing

it's almost like there is a real, material, little girl living inside of me whining and stomping and making terrible faces. saying things like, "but i don't WANT to!" saying things like, "but why do I have to?!"

i think she has pigtails. long and straight. she wears church clothing. the clothing of someone who feels others are asking too much of them. the clothing of childhood.

this little girl, living inside of my very soul and mind, is a bitch.

well. i'm just being honest.

i woke up today and felt like throwing a tantrum. i don't wanna go see grandma. i hate going to that place. it smells. i wanted to find reasons to not see her. because i am selfish. and made it all about me.

so unattractive.

in reality, my grandma gave me so much, loved me so much, that i should see her much more than i do. i barely see her once a month. and every time i see her, i leave in tears. because seeing her there, knowing she is not herself, is one of the most terrible feelings i've ever known.

oh wait, was i talking about me again?!

so we went today. (thank god ben went with me.) and, as always, the place smelled. like sanitizer and old people. and that makes me sad. then they served food. and then it smelled like aforementioned smells plus food. i mean, i can handle the smells of many things. but. i dunno. not today i guess. then, as we took a walk, my grandma had a bathroom accident. i won't say much more except that it smelled terribly. (does that sum it up without making everyone gag the way i did?)

and i had to leave.

and i left without saying goodbye.

(in my feeble defense, my sister was there and took care of everything.)

other than my feeble defense, i felt/feel like a terrible and selfish brat. i can't shake it. and even worse, i never want to go back. like ever.

HOW TERRIBLE IS THAT??

i keep trying to make it about seeing her but i always turn it around to how it makes me feel. but i don't WANNA go. i mean, this little girl is getting on my nerves. but this little girl is me. i've created her. or stemmed from her. and here we are. (i didn't even say goodbye to my grandma! what is wrong with me?!)

the truth is, i've been cry-y all week. crying at tv shows. (preposterous!) crying at nothing. (are you kidding me?) crying about this. crying about that. i feel like i'm fighting tears all the time. and it all started with the dream about my grandpa. who would have been so disappointed in me today. who would have lectured me about "who do you think you are to treat your grandmother that way" and "she loved you when you were stinky and grumpy."

all of this is true.

after all of these years of loving her i feel like she is already dead to me. in a way. possibly in the most important way. everything that we used to talk about, the way we would hold hands, outings taken together, meals shared, jokes made, memories engrained...it's all different now. the memories stay but it is hard to not replace them with the new her. i feel like i am always fighting to keep her in my mind the way she used to be. at her best. beautiful and smart and fashionable and loving and mean. but in a good way.

perhaps this is a week of mourning. perhaps that is why all of the crying. the preliminary dream about teeth falling out. the re-mourning (if you will) of my grandpa. and my constant struggle with the denial of my grandma's ongoing life. a life filled with dementia and sanitizer-smell. my mourning of who she used to be, that person forever lost within her.

i don't know. i don't know if i need someone to slap me and tell me to buck up. or if i need someone to just let me cry my eyes out. i'm hoping after all of this, tomorrow will be a much different day. a day where i am not the center of my own world. i don't know.

sadness and joy

this is the man by which all other men shall be judged
(august, 1981)

on saturday morning i awoke and, for a moment, i was completely still. in memory it was surreal. and then i remembered my dream. and then i started sobbing. and i couldn't stop. i couldn't even stop long enough to tell ben what my dream had been about. what had me in such tears.

but it was simple.

the dream was long and rambling and most of it was the nonsense of which most of our dreams are made. toward the end of the dream, i saw my grandpa, standing on the street in an outfit he used to wear. one i must have been very familiar with in life as it was reproduced in perfection in this dream. he had on slacks, a button-up shirt, and his burgundy windbreaker.

in the dream i ran up and threw my arms around him. i sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. he hugged me, patting me on the back. "it's ok, i'm here. i'm here." i would know his voice anywhere... and this went on until i woke up.

as my eyes opened i was enveloped in calm. the light coming through our turquoise curtains was serene. and then i remembered him. his arms around me. my sobbing.

and it continued. i couldn't help it.

my grandfather died over 11 years ago. just before i graduated high school. the night he died, he was at home and we rushed over to see him. it is likely i have never cried so hard or for so long. as if crying ever brought anyone back...

all day, as we prepped for our 4th of july gala (just hours later), i would think of him and choke up. my throat would tighten. my eyes would blur. i would have to regroup. sometimes the balance is overwhelming.

even now, as i am writing this, i am wiping away tears. my nose running. my throat tight. and i couldn't tell you why if you asked. why this dream was so different. i have dreamed him before. i have dreamed my father many times. but never have i, days later, been brought to tears so easily. nor have i ever woken up and cried as i did... what an amazing reminder that my soul is constantly journeying. and that, although i am all questions and tears at this point, there will be some semblance of answers in my future. or perhaps it is only that the wall between this life and that beyond is much more penetrable than i ever thought...

my grandpa was everything a great man must be. he was smart. strong. funny. so incredibly loving. loyal. honest. my mom said he must have visited me. and i had felt that even before she said the words. how glad i was to see him again. how i had missed him. how i loved him. and how sad it was upon waking. to feel him so closely yet know how far away our souls must be.

(grandpa, if in some odd twist of fate they have blogs wherever you may be, thank you for the visit. i'm sorry i cried but i couldn't help myself...seeing you filled me with such sadness and joy that all i could give you were my tears. but please, please, please come back. don't stay away... i love you, as always.)

happy birthday, grandma

today is my grandma's birthday. she is 88. her favorite color is blue hence the color choice for today's post.

88 years ago my grandma was born in washington, d.c. i can only imagine her parents' excitement at their first born daughter. i know she was doted upon her entire childhood. even after, 8 years later, her brother was born.

my grandma loved drawing and art and even went to a school that offered a special art program. i have a feeling she was a spoiled brat. she was the golden child.

today i am choosing to think of the day she was born instead of last year or this coming year. she is struggling with dementia and, over the course of the past 5 or 6 years, has lost herself. she just isn't who she used to be.

but i love her very much, regardless of her dressing like a crazy old lady, regardless of her fighting with us every time she has to take her pills, regardless of her forgetting my birthday. it is possible my grandma loves me more than anyone else in the world. possibly even more than ben does. possibly even more than my mom does. i don't know why this is.

we even have the exact same feet right down to the toes. (albeit hers are 60 years older than mine...)

happy birthday, grandma. i love you through and through.