CunningLinguist

it’s 5am as i sit here writing this and i’ve know in the back of my mind this day has been coming. it’s not quite here yet, but it’s close enough.  i rarely remember my dreams, but about a month ago, i dreamt my mother called to tell my grandmother was dead. 

i’ve been waiting on that early morning call since then. she’s not dead, but when you’re older than 90, a second trip to the hospital in less than 2 months isn’t good.  i’m worried and sad. but at the same time, the woman i saw a year and a half ago was just a shell of her former self and if it’s her time, then she’s lived a long full life and i’m glad to have been part of her life. 

i have her stories, she’s seen me grow up and i hope and pray that i’m turning into the man she expected.  i’m worried now about my mother, who seems stoic now. i wonder what she’s going to do with herself without my grandmother around. what’s going to keep her motivated and active. i once joked that through all their arguing, they were keeping each other alive, i’m afraid it might be true.

i’m so far away and i feel powerless. i can’t hold my grandmother one last time, i may not even get to do that for my mother. all i can do is wait, i’ve never dreaded a ringing phone so much.