The car pulled up to the house and before the engine was off the four of us, the four Watson children, were standing at attention by the passenger door. Gran had already opened the door and was pushing through excruciating pain to try and stand. Tim and Mike were the first to grab her arms and support her.
Gran, 85 year old Gran, does not take kindly to help. Throughout the evening I felt like I really understand where she was coming from. I remember my own depression this summer when I broke my foot. How much I hated the idea of being cared for and carried and supported. Grans situation is that... to the Nth degree.
A woman, who has cared for her husbands throughout his slow death, who has helped Mother Teresa change the world, who has always given herself to those around... looks around at us and ,with embarrassment, concedes " this is ridiculous".
She suffers from chronic arthritis and back pain, she has a horrible shake in her hand which prevents her from painting and writing, she cannot stand on her own at the moment and cringes every time her upper body twists and she laughs when she tells us she is in denial of her age. Last week she was working with a physiotherapist and ended up pulling muscles in her back. Muscles which still have not healed.
Still living on her own in a retirement home, Gran tries desperately to fend for herself. She makes meals and attends parties with her other retired friends. My mother, her daughter, still cannot bring herself to ask Gran if she needs an assistant. Gran would never have it.
We eat Christmas dinner in the living room this year so as to limit Gran's walking. My mother brings her a plate, which she accepts sheepishly. She smiles and jokes with us, laughing about our horrible singing while Mike plays Christmas carols on the piano.
The end of the night somewhat resembles an Egyptian parade, with gran as the princess in a wheelchair and us carrying her down the steps to the car. Through our joking and laughing there is a somber tone... you can tell she hates the honor.
I held her hand before while she was waiting in the car to leave and I kissed her soft cheek. I realized how much I have taken for granted being so close with such an amazing human being. The mortality, hers and my own, of our time together became a reality and not just a distant relative I hear about through my mother's relayed messages.
Christmas is not about presents, we know that though. It is about family, something many people do not get the privilege of. And I think it is a gentle reminder to all of us that we need to take care of each other, especially those who have taken such nurturing care of us. I will probably benefit the most from these words, but I do want to wish anyone reading this a very merry holiday. Enjoy the chance to really give yourself.
Love,
Lauren
No comments:
Post a Comment