The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good

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Last night, I was in the hospital... my dream. I have no idea if my Grandma is actually dying, but the family pressure to visit her must be getting to me. In the dream, I spent a few hours trying to get to see her (I rode/skated on a shopping cart down from Ithaca, which was fun and didn't take too long, since once I was on the highway, I was going @ 30+ mph). I had to wander around the hospital for almost as long as it took to get back from college. Then, when I found her room, I didn't really see her. There were just a lot of people around and I could see a priest administering her rites.

I decided I did not want to be there.

I've said for almost a year now that I will not attend her funeral. I didn't think about the intervening time when she would be in the hospital. I just assumed I wouldn't have to visit her there, either. I hate to do this to my mom, but then, I'm not going to let her make me do something I feel isn't right.

Mom: I know you're busy with work a lot, but do you think, maybe on a Sunday, you could come up with me to visit her.
Me: No.
Her: blah blah
Me, rationalizing, for her sake as much as mine: I shouldn't even go to the hospital. I'm sick.
Her: You could call. You should call. If you were in the hospital, you'd want your grandchildren to visit...
Me: I should hope I will have treated people better.
Her: True (or words to that effect; I was already tuning her out, the secret art as taught by my Gen X elders)
Her, coming back a minute or two later: But you should be a better person.

I don't think pretending to be all nice and lovey now makes me a better person. I think it makes me spineless and without conviction. And besides, she has enough other grandkids and friends and relatives to pretend like she was a nice person (or maybe she was, to them. Certainly not to me, or to my mother).

Speaking of spineless and without conviction, one of her friends came in today and asked after her. Maybe it was my contact lens (it irritates me frequently), but I almost started to tear. Thing is, I didn't feel anything. "I fake it so real, I am beyond fake." Maybe a bit of remorse for knowing that I don't take care of myself (I never see doctors; neither did she, if she could help it) the same way she didn't. She is my grandmother.

I really like this song.

I'm not playing with you
I'm not playing with you
I'm not playing with you
I clean forgot how to play

But you can still come around
In fact, I invite you down
maybe together, we can wipe that smile off your face.

"a simple matter of knowing when to say no or yes"

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