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Wednesday, May 6, 2009

...And the point is?

If you live your life the way you are supposed to, if you fear God and put all your energy into being good to others and fulfilling your dreams, if you don't litter, if you grow up and get married and pay taxes and shit three times a day, if you make your children your world and teach them how to sit with their ankles crossed and say 'please' and 'thank you', if you don't lie and if you brush and floss before and after meals, you still are not safe because you are working towards an end and then in the end, nothing is in your hands and you do not get to bask in the goodness that you worked toward your whole life to claim. If this is not just my observation and really the way that it is, then ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to tell you that WE ARE ALL ROYALLY FUCKED!

Why the starry-eyed optimism you may be asking? My grandmother was recently moved into a nursing home after being released from the hospital. She has Alzheimer's Disease. She has only been in the home for about three days, and she does not leave her bedroom, which she shares with a wheelchair-bound woman who can't hear worth a damn. I am glad that she can not leave the room because I feel that even in her state of mind she would recognize that the home, much like other homes across the nation, is just a rest stop before you pack your bags for the pearly gates. It's not that bad I guess, but it is impersonal. Grandma has like 4 doctors and numerous nurses, sometimes different ones depending on shift changes. They have a habit of talking about her in the third person as if she is not there when her hearing is A+. Old people sit in wheelchairs in the halls with wide, 'my mind is in la-la land' smiles, and the nurses and orderlies smile their 'if you only knew you were about to croak' smiles back.

This is my grandmother's end. This is why she lived day to day trying to live the best life that she could. Shitty, huh?

To make things better, meaning worst, I recently talked to my father about my grandfather's death. In high school, I was told that he died but not really told how. Apparently, he suffered from alcoholism and substance abuse and had a stroke, just to starve himself to death in the nursing home.

When you live long enough to see someone you love suffer from a deteriorating illness, your emotions are at a crossroads. Do you live your life to the fullest because it will one day be snatched away or tip-toe cautiously through life hoping that you will be rewarded in the end? I am related by blood to two people who chose one of each path, and ended up in the same place in the end. I am not at all sure what this is supposed to say to me, but I find myself wondering what the point is.

2 comments:

Bud said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Bud said...

I used to err on the side of caution growing up. But going to school in New Orleans can and will bring out the demon in even the most saintliest of people.

I had a blast during my wild years, and have resorted back to erring on the side of caution. In seeing that life is so fragile, I am starting to live in fear--in fear that my wild decisions will result in an untimely demise. But in acknowledging this, I do struggle with the fact that I refuse to "rock out" in fear of "clocking out". Is the unexamined life worth living?

After reading this, I am ready to finally go skydiving now.