Hello, my pretties! How are you all doing? Well, I hope!
I’m doing as well as one can be during this current situation, and I’m back here to share a little reflection with you all!
My father’s mother (I hesitate to call her my grandmother) passed away a week ago. It was a surprise, even though I knew she was sick. I think we never expect anyone to actually die, no matter how much we know the person is sick and it’s only a matter of time. Other than the surprise, though, I didn’t really feel much. I felt bad for my father and his siblings, and the other grandchildren who had a much closer relationship with her.
My brother and I were always kind of pushed aside because she didn’t like my mother. That alone always made me wary and uncomfortable around her. Even the attempted gestures of affection felt fake. I remember the day when she basically said “not you” when she called all of the grandkids to come sit near her. At that point, I mentally disowned her. What else could I do?
During the next years, I was forced into a relationship with her, because I was a minor and none of my parents would take no for an answer. My visits happened like this: I’d come in, greet everyone, grandma would sometimes leave her room for seconds, say hello and go back into her room. I’d sit on the couch chatting with my grandpa (he was actually nice to me and I loved hearing his stories from his years as a police office in the 50s) for a couple hours, and then hear her complain that I was going home so soon.
The last straw was definitely when she tried to give me an aspirin after I had told her I couldn’t have it (I’m allergic) and she tried to insist I was making it up. I was about 13, and I had enough after that. I still went through the motions, but whatever love was there just faded out at this point. After I moved out of my home town and to where I live now, I went no contact. It just felt easier then, because I couldn’t be forced to visit or call anymore.
When she passed, I will have to admit I felt… nothing. I didn’t feel like I had lost a grandmother, because I didn’t have one in her. But I wonder what that makes me. Am I evil? Heartless? Cold? I don’t know. It’s hard to figure out. It’s not flattering to admit that I felt relief, not grief.
Oh, well. If you want to share your thoughts, please do! I’m open to anything!
See you on the next post!