November 13, 2005

  • Time, as I've said before, is a cruel thing. It's really quite selfish,
    too. I mean, it never asks what *I* want. For real, it's never even
    consulted me.  It just "creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
    to the last syllable of recorded time..."

    Today, I cleaned my grandparents' apartment....out. All the furniture
    and such was already all gone, but I deep cleaned. There were also a
    whole bunch of boxes which had been packed up by sundry family members,
    ready to be carted off to the dump by "Judy's Junk"...the local
    overall-wearing, flannel-clad tough entrepreneurial chick haul away
    operation.

    All of this went fairly well, without incident, until I was completely
    finished, ready to go, and turning out the lights. In this empty place,
    once so full of life--grandkids running around, sneaking snacks out of
    grandma's freezer; the chatter of the adults over coffee, grandma
    making sure that everyone had signed the guest book--all that now
    exists is a cold, empty space. I sagged against the wall where the sofa
    used to sit, looking around, just remembering. And then....remembering
    some more. Silly little things, like Grandma's ichiban cabbage salad,
    how my Grandpa would hum as he watched the news channel on mute,
    annotating some new idea on his notepad, already filled to the
    margins with his thoughts, and the like.

    Grandma and Grandpa are now in a permanent care facility. We're never
    really prepared for some of the things that we know will happen in this
    life. And then one day, before we know what's really happened, we're
    doing something like cleaning out an apartment, wiping away all
    evidence that two dear people once lived there, leaving behind instead
    the fresh scent of citrus and the sour smell of windex. I hate
    this.  I hate time.

    I must admit that I had a bit of an emotional moment today when I made
    my last rounds, shutting the drapes, walking to the front door, and
    pulling it shut--locking it behind me. I'm a real sucker for the
    symbolism of things, and this hit me particularly, the locking of their
    door behind me. Now, suddenly, it wasn't their door, and I had no
    business behind it.

    As I've said, I hate time.

Comments (6)

  • Taking care of grandparents is tough

  • That is so sad. And you are right, time is cruel. With both my parents now in their 70's I know that it won't be long before it's their home that will become just another piece of real estate. And even though I know it's comming I can't ever be prepared.

    But time HAS given you something and you may not even know it. It sounds as if time gave you many years of love and happy memories. Is there really any greater gift?

  • i'm sorry.

  • Sorry to hear about your sad day.  Remember that there are still new memories to be formed...

  • The best thing is not forgetting.

  • Yeah time can suck really really badly. It's so bittersweet. And I get so frustrated when memories begin to fade or I forget to cherish a moment and really soak it up. But the thing about time is that it dulls the ache of pains. Sorry you had such a tough time.

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