tonight i am heavy. my eyelids are heavy, my heart is heavy and i am full. i want to just break down and sob, but i can’t. i am not sure why i can’t cry, i can feel it welling up in my chest, my eyes begin to water. . . but nothing comes out.
grammu doesn’t want to go to a nursing home. she says they are full of crazies and she just doesn’t like them. she’s afraid and i am afriad for her. i think she’s given up on life. when she has her spells she keeps talking of a man who is chasing her. i think it’s death.
this nursing home is the worst case scenario. as cruel as it is to say, death would have been best. it’s what she wants. she’s been ready to die for years. but we will prolong her life and try our best to make it better. maybe she’ll love the home. maybe she won’t be so lonely.
maybe i would feel so much better if i could just bawl my head off. i can feel the tears tingle in my nose, but it’s not coming. it’s like i am plugged up. it amazes me. i cry at the news, commercials, award ceremonies, weddings, books, the american showsteppers dance competition.
what i need is a hug. i need someone to hug me, to touch me and set everything loose. do hugs ever do that for you? just set everything loose? i don’t know if it’s the physical closeness of someone who wants to alleviate your pain that lets it all go or if it’s just having someone to lean on, someone who wants to help you carry the burden.
i should have hugged someone before i left the hospital. but somehow seeking it out isn’t the same as someone just knowing you need it. it’s like asking for help instead of someone offering you help. you know? sometimes you just don’t want to have to speak the words, you just want someone to see it.
oh darling ones, i am tired. so very, very tired. i am sure i will better in the morning. i plan on going back to work. to talk about grammu’s situation in robotoic tones, so i won’t cry at work. i will go to work and someone will make me smile. i will go to work and wait anxiously by the phone. waiting to know when we have to bring grammu to the home. waiting to hear something, anything.
and then soon enough life will get back to it’s new normal. a new normal that doesn’t involve grammu at mom and pop’s house when i go wash clothes on sunday. a new normal that doesn’t involve her calling and asking me if i got a boyfriend yet. a new normal that will need to incorporate weekly trips to a nursing home. a new normal that i will adapt to and everything will be fine. everything will be fine.