Grams

I've recently received news that my grandmother has taken another turn for the worse. She still hangs onto life and staying alive, even though she's been suffering, and doing things that are so strange. Well, not really I guess. She seems to have regressed to a baby at some moments, or a toddler struggling for independence.

It didn't hit me until yesterday, when I just longed for those days when she was vibrant and independent. Hearing about her and the state she is in, I can't help but think that this is not how she'd want to live her life.

There is part of me that doesn't want to lose her. There is part of me that just really wishes she'd let go. I am heartbroken to know that she believes she dines with dead relatives she still doesn't recognize, throws fits and curses that would put a sailor to shame, and that she may pretend to know me when she sees me - yet does she really?

I'm terrified to visit with her, because she's gone to the next stage. I want her to visit with Pook, and yet I'm not sure if it's a good idea, because who knows if or when she will come unhinged.

My heart is aching...