I have been meaning to update for the past few days, but I've been busy trying to do so-called family activities. Which it wasn't really bad. I actually had fun with my aunts. I highlighted my hair, but that's basically how I spent the past three days I had off.
July 2nd made one year since my grandmother has passed away. I really haven't talked to anyone about her death, and I finally broke and told someone about it the other night. It felt better, but I still have a hole in me somewhere, and honestly I am not planning on it healing anytime soon, if at all. In the past year, it's been an interesting time without her.
Only in bad ways though. After my grandmother fell apart a lot of things in my life fell apart. A lot of people around me noticed that, but I wasn't really opened about how I felt. I never told anyone about how I would wake up at night and couldn't go to sleep for hours over things. Before this happened, I kept my mental issues pretty concealed, but after those things, I just couldn't keep myself hidden as well. I was stripped from the inside out.
The last few months of my grandmother's life I was the only one with her. I had to struggle to pick her up and try to place her in the wheel chair and getting her into the hospitals for her chemotherapy, as she fought every minute of it, begging not to go. I knew it was hurting, and she was scared, but I had to do everything that I could to help her get better. I didn't know it was just making the last few days of her life rough on her. I really wanted her to get well. I didn't think it would be the end. I guess I didn't know a lot of things then. I would get so angry with her, and I knew I did say some bad things, but I was with her every moment and I hope she really knew that I wanted her happy and was only trying to help her. I didn't want it harder on her... One day she wouldn't eat or drink and my aunt was here with me, my aunt took her to the hospital for dehydration. This would be the last time she would be admitted.
For around three long months I sat every night with her. I slept nightly beside her, and kept close. My grandfather was staying home and my aunt did also, due to her having to work. I didn't mind it. It was easier because I had the hospitals help with her, getting her cleaned and ready for the chemotherapy and such... then she started getting worst... This is when things started to get to me. About a month before her death she got where she made these horrid sounds, breathing hard, panting almost. It was a painful sound to hear. She couldn't speak much or move.. little did we know this was now the time the cancer had went from her lungs to her brain.
Feeding her was harder, the nurses wouldn't help with this, I had to get her up and hold her and try to spoon feed her... A few days later, how being two weeks before her death she kept saying she was hungry... I remember it so clearly her saying it.. she was so hungry. I tried to feed her, she got three bites and had to lay down. She started making these..gurgling sounds... one of the nurses called another and it was reported that her food was no longer going to her stomach but her lungs, filling them, I didn't understand quite how this was working, but still the though bothered me, knowing she was starving. At night before this she would scream in the night asking for Jimmy, which was my grandfather's name, saying she needed him beside her. This was the first time in months she didn't make a sound, but those horrible sounds. I would call my grandfather to ask him to come up there, but he said he was too “busy” that she would be fine.
There's much more details, but listening to her suffer to death was horrible. When she died, I wasn't in the room.. I couldn't handle it. Hearing her gasp.. days before her death she took her last bit of her strength and pulled me to her to hug me.
After she passed away my grandfather found a new girlfriend. She was a 22 year old prostitute. This being only one month after her death when I found out about the new girlfriend. “Brittney” She's on crack and also introduced it to my grandfather. At this point my grandfather had stop paying all bills and I had to get a job to help pay bills, my checks went to the bills and I was working full time and going to school as he spent his nights partying with a prostitute. The night I came home to find her at my house and had her tell me to the face she was a friend of my mother was the night I stopped speaking to my mother. Jimmy sold my vehicle (his name was on the title along with my grandmothers and it was left to me) It was like my whole life was being lost to the whore, while I struggled to get by. There was plenty of things that had happened afterward... But, I had those dreams of seeing her dying, begging for food, trying to get her breath.. her cold lifeless body... These things filled my nights... I lost myself, always being on the edge. I couldn't handle it... Recently I found out that my grandfather was actually fucking this prostitute while my grandmother was dying in the hospital.. this really kills me. A part of me is dead, and I can't repair it. I don't know if I could ever forgive my grandfather or mother... not after them doing this when I needed them the most.
After noticing it's been a year... I accept it more. The only woman in my life that cared for me as a child and raised me is gone. I may or may not see her again.. but not in this life time.. It's time for me to grow up and make it on my own. This is the closing of a chapter in my life.
Nanny I love you and miss you.
Ps. I hate the color yellow.