Loss

Grandma has moved into her new place. It was the fastest move I've ever done. Really, 3 hours from beginning to end - packing plus a break for coffee and pie, transportation, unpacking and hanging pictures.

Funny that someone's life can be distilled into one little room and contained on a piece of paper. One piece of paper. Maybe ironic is a better choice of words.

I cried several times today. My emotions are quite palpable lately. For no reason that I can name, I was overwhelmed with emotion and couldn't hold back the tears. I swear I'm having perimenopause because I feel so out of control - euphoric to psychotic in seconds and for no reason.

Alzheimer's disease is cruel. And with all of the deterioration painful. It makes me question so many things about our world, our environment, our morals and ethics as a society and as individuals. Why, for instance, do we slow down the progression of the disease when it is so debilitating, so unlikely that there is much that the person can contribute? Is contribution all that matters? What is the point?

I hate that my mother in law is sick with this disease. That she is suffering in this way. That I didn't get to know her before she was sick. That not knowing, and her not telling, made it seem as though we were at odds with one another. That she lived with us. That she no longer lives with us. That I wasn't as good as other people are at caring for others. That Twig and she, that Wood and me are all feeling a loss. That we know nothing more than we did this morning about what the rest of her life will be.

On the other hand, we have regained some flexibility in our lives. I'll be able to get to work on time. We won't have to rush home after work. Weekends can be spent as a threesome instead of two dueces - dividing and conquering everything. More flexibility in where we go, how long we spend there. No administration of meds, no caregiver in my house (although she was a godsend and I never minded her being there), no more hiding the toilet paper so grandma wouldn't over use, leave bits behind and get bladder infections. No more of the day to day responsibility - but continued obligation. That never goes away.

I care deeply for her and want only the best for her. I wish for her peace, tranquility, and a death (I'm feeling callous for even saying that - she could live for 10 years or more...) that is speedy and pain free. Until then I want her to be happy with her new family/caretakers. They are good people.

Have I mentioned lately that being a grown up is kind of crappy? I kind of would rather be 8 years old.