Getting Older

I don't know what prompted me to want to write about this today. Maybe I am grumpy or maybe just a bit sad. Either way, I don't feel very chipper. I am borrowing this from a poem that Adam wrote about his grandmother.

My paternal grandfather is the only grandparent that is still living. My mom's father passed away when she was only 12 years old, so I never knew him. My grandmothers both passed in 2000 (exactly 2 months apart to the day!), so Pappy is all that I have left.

Pap had had a few strokes, his memory was not good, and he had the normal health issues of an 89 year old man. It had gotten so that he would leave things in the fridge for way too long and eat bad food, because he forgot that it was bad. He still drove, and would get disoriented and forget where he was going or where he was. Having to watch someone you love go through that was devastating, but having to watch them be forced to give up their freedom is worse IMO.

In July the family decided that it would be in his best interest to go to an assisted living facility. He could come and go as he pleased (if someone took him) and it was supposed to be a pretty nice place. He had been in the hospital, so they decided he would need to go when he was released.

My grandfather can be very emotional, and when they (when I say they, I am referring to various family members) told him what was going to happen, he got very upset. What was going to happen to his little dog? What was going to happen to his belongings? He was just very very upset. Now, Pap lived in an apartment in my Uncle Harry's house, so having his things disturbed wasn't an issue. My parents took Tinkerbell, so that wasn't a problem either....except to him it was. This place could've been the Ritz-Carlton...not good enough, because it wasn't his home. Pappy was used to being independent, and couldn't fathom why he couldn't be now. My uncle had taken his car keys (he was a danger on the road), and he knew that he could come and go and wanted his car. The deal was, that he had to take an evaluation to see if he was fit. He took the evaluation a few weeks ago, and failed. Unfortunately, he doesn't know that yet. My uncle has not told him, for fear that he will become depressed. He had just started to socialize with the other residents, and we don't want to hinder that, but all he talks about is getting his car back.

I love to spend time with him...he tells me stories from when he was young, and when my dad was little...oh the blackmail...but spending time there also breaks my heart. Every time I leave, I want to cry. He had worked his ass off his entire life and now he has to spend his time in a home.

The point of all my blabbering is that it is terrible getting older....not only does your body betray you, but sometimes your mind does too. When you have a loved one who is going through it, it just tears your heart to pieces. I don't really know what else to say. This was just kind of a rant/ramble post, so hopefully I will think of something good for the next one.