I finished my painting of my house. Afterwards I worked on Brook Hollow Library which I think will be finished in another sitting. I worked with the front door open which is a close second to working outside. I could hear the birds chirping and my house cooled off a little. We’re finally getting down into the 60’s at night after several months of extreme heat. It always makes me happy when I can sit with the door open in the fall.
Yesterday I got a covid booster and a flu shot. Although I felt like it was a good idea to get both I was a little worried about the impact. I don’t normally get vaccines. I don’t think I’ve had a flu shot in 30 years. I don’t know why I became averse to them, but somehow over the years I did. I felt like I wanted my body to work up immunity to things on its own. The past two years with covid has opened my eyes to a new way of thinking. I used to think that I would get my kids vaccinated when they were young (if I’d had them), but for some reason I just didn’t think it mattered that much as an adult.
I’m not going to say that I’m now a militant vaccinator. I don’t live by it. But after getting sick last week and realizing that I’ve been masked and isolated for two and a half years, I thought it was a good idea to get the shots. The last booster I had almost a year ago resulted in a day of achey fatigue. It’s still early in the day today, so who knows how I’ll end up feeling, but so far I’m ok.
I’d like to be looking forward to the holidays but this year is going to be tough. My grandmother went into the hospital the Saturday before Thanksgiving last year and we spent the week rushing back and forth. We were enjoying dinner on Thanksgiving Day last year when my uncle got off the phone with the doctor and said we needed to go say goodbye. It was awful. Luckily she was ok, for the time being. Perhaps he misinterpreted the message, I don’t know, but the rushing was unnecessary. It was a stressful time and we were all on edge.
I spent Christmas evening with her in her room. She was in hospice and had an attendant with her. It was hard to talk to her about the holiday and how I’d spent it, knowing she’d been there alone. I’m not sure how much she was aware of though, which is why we didn’t spend the morning with her. I think different family members visited throughout the day, but for the most part there were no gifts exchanged, no holiday meal for her. The circumstances were bleak.
She died in January. I was at a 10-day meditation course and she died on the night of day 9. I had a lot of time and space to cry. I felt disappointed in myself for going. I really expected her to be there when I got back. She kept asking people why she hadn’t died yet. The whole time she was in hospice she was disappointed that she didn’t go while she was in the hospital. Several times, when I was visiting she would ask, Why am I still here? Some of the nurses suggested we ask her if there was unfinished business she felt was hanging in the air. She said no.
I couldn’t help wondering if my leaving made her realize that eventually, we were all going to move on with our lives. For six weeks we tended to her daily. My mother, uncles, aunts, and cousins. My bother even drove from Denver over New Years to spend some extra time with her. I know she didn’t die because of me, I know it was between her and her Higher Power, but maybe she was enjoying the attention. Maybe she was hanging on because we were all there, all united around her impending death.
It’s impossible to know. What is it that makes us realize it’s time to go? I like to think that it’s always a choice, always something that we accept for ourselves no matter what the circumstances are. That may be Pollyannaish, but that’s what gives me hope. Her death made me realize that my death is imminent too. Life doesn’t last forever. I can still remember when I was young thinking I had forever to figure things out. I had my whole life ahead of me. Time flies.
I miss my grandmother. I miss her being here, and I miss the role she played in my life and in the lives of my family members. It’s so weird when someone’s no longer here. I can remember walking outside after my nephew was born and having one of those deja vu moments. I was struck by that tiny human’s presence in the world. He was just baby but he carved out space for himself, and everyone and everything shifted because of him. We had no choice. I think it’s the same when someone dies. I have realized how much we all matter, how deeply connected we are.
I know I’m not the first person to spend the first holiday without a loved one, but it’s the first holiday without someone who was central to my world. She was here for 49 years of my life. I’m grateful for the time I had with her. I guess I will let go of the holidays, let go of expectations. It’s time to move on and find new ways of spending them.