Sponsor me in the 2005 MS Walk! Why? Read here.
I bought my Nana a Christmas present today at the hospital gift shop. It�s an angel of healing, from a whole series of angels. They�re made out of resin but look like they�re carved wood, with metal wire wings. This one is holding a small bird in her hands. She�s really very sweet. I was torn between the angel of healing and the angel of prayer, but somehow I feel more like she needs the healing right now. Perhaps I�m having some kind of crisis of faith, but I�m not sure the prayer is doing any good.
My grandparents got married in 1940. They met in hairdressing school and eloped�he was Italian, and her family saw only his nationality, which they disapproved of greatly. Actually, between you and me, she was pregnant when they ran away, but none of us grandchildren are supposed to know that! When they came home and told her father, he bitingly told them that they�d bought themselves a license to sleep together, but weren�t married in the eyes of God. As a wedding gift to his daughter and the son-in-law he hated, my great grandfather paid the priest to remarry them in the Catholic church.
For 50 years, except for the time he was in Japan, my grandfather never slept away from my grandmother. They had an amazing marriagewhich produced three kids (my two uncles and my mom), nine grandchildren and (so far) six great-grandchildren. I learned from them what it means to love someone well.
Shortly before my Grandfather�s 80th birthday, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer�s. The next three years were a downward spiral into an ugly world. A world where my grandfather forgot who his wife was, who his kids were, who I was. A world where he looked at my grandmother and said, "You can�t be my wife�my wife�s thin." A world where he eventually stopped talking very much at all. Where he regressed back to wearing diapers. Where he lost the ability to feed himself. A world that eventually killed him.
My grandmother stayed right by his side through the whole thing. That�s what you do for someone you love. About three months before he died, he fell and broke his hip. From the hospital he went to a nursing home�a "rehab center." The move just about killed my grandmother, but she insisted it was temporary. He was coming home soon. There was no question to her.
He died in February from pneumonia complications. It wasn�t a surprise. My grandmother was devastated. But she�s a strong woman, and she found a way to get out of bed and keep going without him. She went home to the house he�d built for them, where they�d raised their kids, got back into the bed they�d shared and said her prayers. It worked for her.
Just after July 4th this year, Nana started complaining about pain in her abdomen. Her belly was swollen and distended, and she was uncomfortable to the point where she drove herself to the emergency room. Two days, a CT scan and countless tests later, she was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin�s Lymphoma.
Lymphoma is described as a highly treatable cancer, with a good survival rate. A "good survival rate" means 50% of the people who get it don�t die from it. Doesn�t sound so good for the other 50%.
---------------------------------------------
Something to say about this entry?
Add your comments here (0 people have spoken already)
< Movie reviews and self love | The Ghost of Christmas Present >
