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Sunday, November 07, 2004
So. My grandfather is dying. Odds are that it is a matter of weeks before he dies. The nursing home has recommended hospice care, which, for those of you who are not versed in terminal illness, means that he will be moved back home with a nurse who will see him through to the clearing at the end of the path. The family is going out to Kenesaw tomorrow. Odds are this is one of the last times I will see my Grandpa Uden alive. Grandpa's time is coming soon, and I don't know how to feel.

Yes, I should be (and will be) sad when he passes, but I don't know if I'll feel anything deeper than that. I don't think that I entirely understand things like "love".

Of course, who does, really? Who understands love? No one. That's who.

The thing is, I don't really know my Grandpa. He's been around all of my life, but, what does that mean, really?

I don't really have that much in common with my Mom's side of the family. I don't dig sports, I dress strangely, I grow crazy facial hair, I've never worked on a farm in my life. I'm not the first grandkid, I'm not the only girl. I've never felt unloved by my Mom's side of the family, but, I've never felt like I've belonged. It was never mere toleration -- there was just never any common ground.

As far as Grandpa goes... I've experienced severe depression in the past. But, the only time I've ever seen it was when we moved Grandpa and Grandma into the home. Obviously, Grandpa was tired, having just come out of the hospital. But, the fact that he knew that he was dying, in a nursing home... I never, EVER, want to experience that. People who are against Living Wills and Do Not Ressucitate orders are flat-out wrong.

So, I am going to see Elmer C(K)arl Fredrick Uden for what may be the last time. What am I concerned about?

How bored am I going to be? Honestly, I'm not that self-centered. I wish that I had something to talk about with the man. I wish that he could bust away from his LCMS upbringing and tell me stories about WWII, since I know he has some big ones, and they will never be told unless he tells them. I wish that I could talk about baseball with him, but I don't even know what team he likes. I wish that I knew the man better, and could tell him I love him, for what it's worth. I don't know what love is. People are with you your entire life -- parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins -- do you really love them? I think I do, but I don't know.

It's late. Ima go to bed. I don't know that I love everyone reading this, but, mad props to you, hepcats. Mad props.






Comments by: YACCS