Nana
September 1st 2011 04:35
There is a point in time when you begin to go backwards and your mind begins to think of things that happened so long ago.
When I look at my grandmother I see that she has hit a time in her life when nothing matters anymore but the wonderings of the mind. Moments in time are brought to the forefront to feel as though it was yesterday. He talked to those younger then him as a bully would in a playground and he would threaten to make his point heard within the house. Who is this I ask? One of the nurses, I thought. That was my father's father who died many years ago. A moment in time seems not so long ago from her point of view.
I don't understand what she is talking about but I imagine what it is like to feel dazed and living through memory. She picked up imaginary cotton and bits and pieces and places them in my hand. I don't want to her to worry so I go along with the game, and tell her not to worry if one of them falls to the ground.
The mind is tired and is winding down. She goes in and out and I see her eyes daze over as she drops to sleep. I excuse myself to let her rest and she seems to jump back into the conversation to tell me to take the flowers I had just given her. She says sorry for not remembering my birthday and to take the flower home for me. She knows not what she has missed or is missing. She is static in life, not living yet not dying. Who knows what it feels like to get to a stage like that, when you have none of your generation alive but yourself. I asked about our Aunty, as she passed away while I was away and there is no response. Maybe the thought of such a thing draws her to the depths of the mind to make sad memories go away. I can't begin to imagine just how it would feel to have reached a stage in life when there is nothing left to do but sit in a hospital bed and read or watch television. Memories must keep you going but also dishearten you just as soon as they come, would they soon disappear. I walk away with the flower in my hand pressing the lift button to depart from the sterile hospital and its seems surreal to have been there at all looking at what used to be my grandmother lost in her thoughts now, and laughing at the chair's wooden arms as though they were her legs. I would laugh, as I did at the time, but the truth of the situation is hardly funny at all.
When I look at my grandmother I see that she has hit a time in her life when nothing matters anymore but the wonderings of the mind. Moments in time are brought to the forefront to feel as though it was yesterday. He talked to those younger then him as a bully would in a playground and he would threaten to make his point heard within the house. Who is this I ask? One of the nurses, I thought. That was my father's father who died many years ago. A moment in time seems not so long ago from her point of view.
I don't understand what she is talking about but I imagine what it is like to feel dazed and living through memory. She picked up imaginary cotton and bits and pieces and places them in my hand. I don't want to her to worry so I go along with the game, and tell her not to worry if one of them falls to the ground.
The mind is tired and is winding down. She goes in and out and I see her eyes daze over as she drops to sleep. I excuse myself to let her rest and she seems to jump back into the conversation to tell me to take the flowers I had just given her. She says sorry for not remembering my birthday and to take the flower home for me. She knows not what she has missed or is missing. She is static in life, not living yet not dying. Who knows what it feels like to get to a stage like that, when you have none of your generation alive but yourself. I asked about our Aunty, as she passed away while I was away and there is no response. Maybe the thought of such a thing draws her to the depths of the mind to make sad memories go away. I can't begin to imagine just how it would feel to have reached a stage in life when there is nothing left to do but sit in a hospital bed and read or watch television. Memories must keep you going but also dishearten you just as soon as they come, would they soon disappear. I walk away with the flower in my hand pressing the lift button to depart from the sterile hospital and its seems surreal to have been there at all looking at what used to be my grandmother lost in her thoughts now, and laughing at the chair's wooden arms as though they were her legs. I would laugh, as I did at the time, but the truth of the situation is hardly funny at all.
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