She's dead, and I think my instinct warned me. But I didn't listen.
I just got the notice: My grandmother died today,
shortly after 14.00 o'clock in the afternoon. No-one bothered to tell us that
she was in the hospital, not to mention in what condition. Now the funeral lady
called in to inform the only daughter, my mother, that a cremation is planned
and to express her condolence, or whatever the reason was for
calling.
In the past years, since my grandmother suffered
Korsakoff from massive drinking due to her abusive boyfriend who, by the way is
a racist and violent, too, our relationship had suffered badly. Still, I loved
her, and still love her, for what she has been to me before her breakdown. You
see, Korsakoff is to alcoholic induced brain damage (Corpora mammillaria blown
up) and leads to anterograde and retrograde amnesia, damage of the short term
memory, Konfabulation (inventing of stories and believing in them yourself) and
the like.
Her boyfriend, however, always made sure that her contact to us, her family, would be as little as possible, and as bad as possible when it would happen. He brainwashed her to believe he was her only support, and abused her. Although she used to be a very independant woman, she gave in to his manipulations. I guess, after being a lone widow for so many years, strong and independent, she had the desire to lean on someone; at least that's the very insufficient explanation I could think of.
Anyway, I didn't listen to my instinct.
Yesterday on my way back from the LPA, I suddenly thought I should contact her again, because if I wouldn't, I might not have another chance if she suddenly died. I then thought by myself, that, in case she died without me having spoken to her, I'd still not have lost everything. Because of her condition, she remembers badly, sometimes twists what happened and mostly forgets it very quickly. It would have only been nice for me to know I have seen her again, I realized, as her brain was too destroyed to really benefit from those meetings and she'd probably forget. And I thought, all while sitting in the S-Bahn driving home, that I'd always remember her as the good person and fantastic grandmother she had been for me for so many years of my life, before she became a wreck. I'm very happy that I managed to better our relationship after the outfall in 1998.
(At that time her boyfriend attacked and injured me quite badly, displacing a couple of vertebraes in my neck, but she took his side and the family was split for a few years, all full of grim anger and sadness. I was so disappointed that she left me, because I was her favourite grandchild and we visited her every weekend as far as I can remember in my life. In the beginning I was so angry that I wished she was dead, for that had been easier to deal with than having her turn her back on me. But after realizing that we were all suffering I decided to contact her again and make the best out of it, to create a situation i could live with without damaging my own life and mental health. She was already affected by the alcohol, and her brain was not as good as before, but it was the best i could get, so I had to accept it. I did it for myself, and for her).
Of course now I wonder if I should have called her yesterday when I got this strange sudden thought. Of course I regret it. But not that much that I want to grieve over it forever. I know I can't change that I didn't call her, and I know everything could have been different *had* I just called and maybe gotten told that she's in hospital. You never know that because her boyfriend and her official person in charge, appointed to her by the court, often withheld information from us, for example when she had broken her femur and the like.
I am really sad. But I know that I can't change the way of things. I will regret I didn't answer my instinct's call yesterday, but I won't overdo it. I don't even know if she was awake in the last days, and I'll probably never know why she died, as the doctors are not obliged to tell us; how ridiculous. We're blood related! But in case of her, everything that could impossibly happen happened. No justice, no reasonable decisions, nothing. Those involved will know what I mean, and it's a long long story I'm tired of telling.
So I will mourn now. I want to see her but they have no staff to let us into the pathology over the weekend, no one has the keys except the emergency service. How ridiculous is that again?! So anyone who dies tonight will stay in his room? I don't think so, but I won't go there as it just aggravates my anger and doesn't help anyone.
I have forgiven her some time ago, after I realized that her brain was mush and she really looked at everything with some kind of very ironic innocence. Ironic because she didn't understand what had changed, for her the whole catastrophic incidence with her friend injuring me didn't happen...or did it? She just woke up to her family being somewhat distanced, but why...once she knew... how very strange...
So I saved the memory of the good times, which were plenty, and tried to be as forgiving as I could. Difficult thing and reason for the very rare visits was that my attacker still lived with her. He was probably drinking a beer when she died, as it was his main occupation. He wasn't very caring. He was just evil, but no one saw. We saw it late ourselves. he managed to talk every judge into believing he was one devoted partner and there while her family was rotten and manipulative. Never underestimate the cleverness of the dull - sometimes they win with their tricks.
We're a very peaceful family, no domestic violence ever, not even a slap on the head. Civilized and well behaved. Arguments are solved verbally. Always. Exclusively. Oh, but if I'd see him now, I'd punch my fist right into his face. But I can't do that, because I'd probably get convicted and banned from working as a doctor. How fantastic, not even the revenge is mine. He's one bloody fuckhead, and I will not let him rule my life even more. It's not about forgiving him, because I could never do that. I *will* never do that. But I will be able to let it go. I will pass on. That's what I can live with. She passed away now, but I lost my real grandmother long ago. I save her spirit, and pity that and how she lost the right way. It really doesn't matter if her corpse is buried or cremated, as it's just the shell she left with us on earth. I just struggle with myself, because my pride doesn't want Arschfred to win that last battle. But I know it's not the right reason, it's not a battle, and it's not about pride. I'll just have to let go. I will continue crying and mourning, and I'll try not to withhold anything that would accumulate in my soul and harm me in the long term. I don't know how, but I also have to take care of my family, my parents, especially my mother, my little brother, my little sister and to a lesser part, my big sister who can stand on her own much better than the other two, I believe. I want to protect them, and to do that I have to take care of myself. I hope we will overcome this unpleasant and shocking life event with minimal damage and keep no grimness in our hearts.
My brother and me have very important exams to pass in the next two weeks. Hallelujah. Sometimes life is just a piece of crap. But I know it will go on, and I do not need to be religious to think so, to know so. Strength comes from within, and from your dearest -family and friends- around you. Some need the Believe to summon that strength, or to find it within themselves. I respect that, but I do not need it. That is my believe - I believe in myself.
To the psychologically extra smart readers who see ghosts - this is not a shock reaction where someone loses his believe because of unfairness around and against him, it is just my opinion. In my immediate family no one is religious (anymore; they had bad experiences, one in the catholic and one in the evangelic church), and I was brought up free to choose what I want to believe in; also my grandmother wasn't an active christian. So, I don't feel betrayed by god - I *can't* because I don't acknowledge the institutionalized idea. At the latest in my first philosophy lesson I perceived that religion is a construct that many people need to get a grip in life, something to hold on to, something to turn to when they feel lost. A helping construction so to speak. Imaginary. Not more. So don't try to tell me I shouldn't give something up that I didn't have. I do believe in myself, and in recirculating energy that keeps the universe and all life going, and once must have started somehow. I refuse the necessity to give it a name and a function. I also don't think that you can "find your faith/believe", because you either believe, or you don't. But of course everyone must find a way to live his life, and is free to believe whatever he/she wants. No problem on my side... well, tiny one maybe, but only if it comes as far to bother me in a negative way.
I actually lost track of time, and if there was something else I wanted to tell. But then, I just lost someone who was very important to me and while writing this my feelings are still between turmoil and shock. I guess today I'm excused for being incoherent. It's just the thought of her dying alone, without the ones who love her around, wrenches my heart. I'd liked to be there for her. But I hope she knows that.
I guess she does.
Her boyfriend, however, always made sure that her contact to us, her family, would be as little as possible, and as bad as possible when it would happen. He brainwashed her to believe he was her only support, and abused her. Although she used to be a very independant woman, she gave in to his manipulations. I guess, after being a lone widow for so many years, strong and independent, she had the desire to lean on someone; at least that's the very insufficient explanation I could think of.
Anyway, I didn't listen to my instinct.
Yesterday on my way back from the LPA, I suddenly thought I should contact her again, because if I wouldn't, I might not have another chance if she suddenly died. I then thought by myself, that, in case she died without me having spoken to her, I'd still not have lost everything. Because of her condition, she remembers badly, sometimes twists what happened and mostly forgets it very quickly. It would have only been nice for me to know I have seen her again, I realized, as her brain was too destroyed to really benefit from those meetings and she'd probably forget. And I thought, all while sitting in the S-Bahn driving home, that I'd always remember her as the good person and fantastic grandmother she had been for me for so many years of my life, before she became a wreck. I'm very happy that I managed to better our relationship after the outfall in 1998.
(At that time her boyfriend attacked and injured me quite badly, displacing a couple of vertebraes in my neck, but she took his side and the family was split for a few years, all full of grim anger and sadness. I was so disappointed that she left me, because I was her favourite grandchild and we visited her every weekend as far as I can remember in my life. In the beginning I was so angry that I wished she was dead, for that had been easier to deal with than having her turn her back on me. But after realizing that we were all suffering I decided to contact her again and make the best out of it, to create a situation i could live with without damaging my own life and mental health. She was already affected by the alcohol, and her brain was not as good as before, but it was the best i could get, so I had to accept it. I did it for myself, and for her).
Of course now I wonder if I should have called her yesterday when I got this strange sudden thought. Of course I regret it. But not that much that I want to grieve over it forever. I know I can't change that I didn't call her, and I know everything could have been different *had* I just called and maybe gotten told that she's in hospital. You never know that because her boyfriend and her official person in charge, appointed to her by the court, often withheld information from us, for example when she had broken her femur and the like.
I am really sad. But I know that I can't change the way of things. I will regret I didn't answer my instinct's call yesterday, but I won't overdo it. I don't even know if she was awake in the last days, and I'll probably never know why she died, as the doctors are not obliged to tell us; how ridiculous. We're blood related! But in case of her, everything that could impossibly happen happened. No justice, no reasonable decisions, nothing. Those involved will know what I mean, and it's a long long story I'm tired of telling.
So I will mourn now. I want to see her but they have no staff to let us into the pathology over the weekend, no one has the keys except the emergency service. How ridiculous is that again?! So anyone who dies tonight will stay in his room? I don't think so, but I won't go there as it just aggravates my anger and doesn't help anyone.
I have forgiven her some time ago, after I realized that her brain was mush and she really looked at everything with some kind of very ironic innocence. Ironic because she didn't understand what had changed, for her the whole catastrophic incidence with her friend injuring me didn't happen...or did it? She just woke up to her family being somewhat distanced, but why...once she knew... how very strange...
So I saved the memory of the good times, which were plenty, and tried to be as forgiving as I could. Difficult thing and reason for the very rare visits was that my attacker still lived with her. He was probably drinking a beer when she died, as it was his main occupation. He wasn't very caring. He was just evil, but no one saw. We saw it late ourselves. he managed to talk every judge into believing he was one devoted partner and there while her family was rotten and manipulative. Never underestimate the cleverness of the dull - sometimes they win with their tricks.
We're a very peaceful family, no domestic violence ever, not even a slap on the head. Civilized and well behaved. Arguments are solved verbally. Always. Exclusively. Oh, but if I'd see him now, I'd punch my fist right into his face. But I can't do that, because I'd probably get convicted and banned from working as a doctor. How fantastic, not even the revenge is mine. He's one bloody fuckhead, and I will not let him rule my life even more. It's not about forgiving him, because I could never do that. I *will* never do that. But I will be able to let it go. I will pass on. That's what I can live with. She passed away now, but I lost my real grandmother long ago. I save her spirit, and pity that and how she lost the right way. It really doesn't matter if her corpse is buried or cremated, as it's just the shell she left with us on earth. I just struggle with myself, because my pride doesn't want Arschfred to win that last battle. But I know it's not the right reason, it's not a battle, and it's not about pride. I'll just have to let go. I will continue crying and mourning, and I'll try not to withhold anything that would accumulate in my soul and harm me in the long term. I don't know how, but I also have to take care of my family, my parents, especially my mother, my little brother, my little sister and to a lesser part, my big sister who can stand on her own much better than the other two, I believe. I want to protect them, and to do that I have to take care of myself. I hope we will overcome this unpleasant and shocking life event with minimal damage and keep no grimness in our hearts.
My brother and me have very important exams to pass in the next two weeks. Hallelujah. Sometimes life is just a piece of crap. But I know it will go on, and I do not need to be religious to think so, to know so. Strength comes from within, and from your dearest -family and friends- around you. Some need the Believe to summon that strength, or to find it within themselves. I respect that, but I do not need it. That is my believe - I believe in myself.
To the psychologically extra smart readers who see ghosts - this is not a shock reaction where someone loses his believe because of unfairness around and against him, it is just my opinion. In my immediate family no one is religious (anymore; they had bad experiences, one in the catholic and one in the evangelic church), and I was brought up free to choose what I want to believe in; also my grandmother wasn't an active christian. So, I don't feel betrayed by god - I *can't* because I don't acknowledge the institutionalized idea. At the latest in my first philosophy lesson I perceived that religion is a construct that many people need to get a grip in life, something to hold on to, something to turn to when they feel lost. A helping construction so to speak. Imaginary. Not more. So don't try to tell me I shouldn't give something up that I didn't have. I do believe in myself, and in recirculating energy that keeps the universe and all life going, and once must have started somehow. I refuse the necessity to give it a name and a function. I also don't think that you can "find your faith/believe", because you either believe, or you don't. But of course everyone must find a way to live his life, and is free to believe whatever he/she wants. No problem on my side... well, tiny one maybe, but only if it comes as far to bother me in a negative way.
I actually lost track of time, and if there was something else I wanted to tell. But then, I just lost someone who was very important to me and while writing this my feelings are still between turmoil and shock. I guess today I'm excused for being incoherent. It's just the thought of her dying alone, without the ones who love her around, wrenches my heart. I'd liked to be there for her. But I hope she knows that.
I guess she does.
Posted: Fr - September 17, 2004 at 07:35 Uhr
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