Tenuous
Tenuous. Tenuous is defined as having a lack of firmness or mettle; fragile. Such a delicate word and utterly terrifying. I suppose I should try and look on the bright side of things, latch onto some ray of hope, submerse myself in the faith that everything works out best in the end or simply detach my emotional receptors and take a purely "Vulcan" approach to it all and tell myself it's the circle of life or something else logically profound.
Tenuous. When I hear that word I think of the thinnest strand of thread imaginable. Yet when dealing with one's psycho-emotional state or even one's very health, tenuous just isn't how we'd want our tether described. But sadly, life is like that.
I suppose, I should explain what's with all the histrionics. You see, despite everything I have observed, absorbed and experienced in my life, thus far, I've had it pretty good. No, I don't come from old money, or superlative genetic stock, nor do I have a prestigious family name (at least not in the eyes of society at large), but with regard to experiencing excruciating pain and loss...I've been fortunate to avoid it for the most part. All my dearest, closest friends and loved ones are still living and for the most part well. But, things change. It's inevitable, isn't it? Unavoidable even.
Let me take a step back and explain things a bit further. I'm one of those soon to be all too rare individuals whose parents never got divorced, so my family is for the most part intact and not grafted and complex. Of my four grandparents, I was only ever really close to two of them, my mom's parents. Which isn't to say that I didn't love my dad's parents, I just wasn't as strongly bonded to them as I am with my other grandparents. Of the four, three are still living. I lost my Grandpa Barr years ago to cancer, but he put up one hell of a fight. My Grandma Barr did her best to forge a life for herself without my Grandpa, but sadly has succumbed to Alzheimer's. She's still alive, but yet, not really. Her body's still with us, but the rest of her has moved on.
Now, my mother's parents, my Grandpa and Grandma Heston, have always been in the pinnacle of health. They've somehow managed to remain timeless and didn't begin to show signs of even being remotely close to their age until recently. My Grandpa Heston didn't slow down until he broke his hip and had to have a total hip replacement a couple years or so ago. But then that's what happens when you're in your 80s and fall out of a tree--no joke. However, he bounced back pretty well all things considered. My Grandma Heston seldom ever gets sick, she's far too busy to be bothered with something like that. In fact, had it not been for our wonderful winter weather over Christmas and the fact that they too lost their power, she'd have hosted the annual Christmas Eve family get-together at her house again this year with over 50-60 guests filling their basement for potluck revelry.
Really, I have been very fortunate, but three nights ago I got my first official wakeup call. The phone rang and it was Mom. She didn't sound too bad, so I wasn't prepared for her to tell me that she had some bad news. My Grandma had come down with pneumonia. My first thought was that well, this must be it, the Alzheimer's weakened her mentally and now her body's starting to give out. Wrong. It was Grandma Heston who'd contracted pneumonia. I was kinda stunned, but still not too concerned. She went to the doctor, he prescribed some anti-biotics and she's back home. Everything will be fine in a little while. That's what I told myself. That's what I keep telling myself, because anything else would break my heart.
I hung up the phone and still hadn't completely felt the impact of what my mother had just told me. I mean, I know my mom, she's a consummate worrier and this is HER mother we're talking about. If it was really REALLY serious, she'd be a basketcase for sure. So, I put my fears aside and went on with my routine. The next day, I thought about calling and checking on Grandma, but I knew my mother had intended to spend the day at my grandparents' house, cleaning and just doing whatever she could to keep herself calm and feeling useful, while at the same time watching over her parents. Plus, I knew Grandma had a difficult time catching her breath with all the coughing, let alone trying to talk, so I didn't call.
The following evening I couldn't stand it any longer, I had to call and at least check in. So, I called my grandparents' house and Grandpa answered the phone. He NEVER answers the phone. We spoke briefly and he told me Grandma had been behaving herself and hadn't been too cranky, but I knew that her not being able to do the things that she would ordinarily be doing had to be driving her stir crazy. He gave her the phone, which I hadn't expected him to do and I heard my Grandma say, "Hello Chris." What a relief, she sounded pretty good, but from then on she struggled to talk and maintain her voice and finally I just told her I'd do the talking for a bit and wrapped up the conversation with her promising to have Grandpa call me if she needed anything.
I had a huge lump in my throat after hanging up the phone. This wasn't a cold, or even the flu. This was serious. However, it wasn't just hearing her sound so horrible on the phone, but it was what she said. She'd told me she wondered if maybe God had been trying to tell her something. The weather had forced her to cancel Christmas Eve, she'd also been forced to cancel a handful of other important events that in the past she'd never have thought twice about missing and then this. And now here I am, helpless to do anything but be loving and supportive and hold onto my faith that things will work out for the best in the end. But best for whom?
It all just kinda hits me in the gut. And yet, there's a part of myself that keeps reminding me that there are people out there who are regularly put through far worse than what I'm going through. My own GRANDMOTHER is going through far worse right now. This isn't even that serious at the moment and I need to get a grip. All of this makes perfect rational sense. In fact, in my heart I truly believe that Grandma will bounce back from this and that we will have plenty more time to spend together, laughing, and playing cards, eating great food and oh the hugging. However, there's another part of me (the part that wants so very much to protect me and prepare me) that reminds me to not take things for granted, to not take the people I love for granted. Tenuous. Life is fucking tenuous.
Tenuous. When I hear that word I think of the thinnest strand of thread imaginable. Yet when dealing with one's psycho-emotional state or even one's very health, tenuous just isn't how we'd want our tether described. But sadly, life is like that.
I suppose, I should explain what's with all the histrionics. You see, despite everything I have observed, absorbed and experienced in my life, thus far, I've had it pretty good. No, I don't come from old money, or superlative genetic stock, nor do I have a prestigious family name (at least not in the eyes of society at large), but with regard to experiencing excruciating pain and loss...I've been fortunate to avoid it for the most part. All my dearest, closest friends and loved ones are still living and for the most part well. But, things change. It's inevitable, isn't it? Unavoidable even.
Let me take a step back and explain things a bit further. I'm one of those soon to be all too rare individuals whose parents never got divorced, so my family is for the most part intact and not grafted and complex. Of my four grandparents, I was only ever really close to two of them, my mom's parents. Which isn't to say that I didn't love my dad's parents, I just wasn't as strongly bonded to them as I am with my other grandparents. Of the four, three are still living. I lost my Grandpa Barr years ago to cancer, but he put up one hell of a fight. My Grandma Barr did her best to forge a life for herself without my Grandpa, but sadly has succumbed to Alzheimer's. She's still alive, but yet, not really. Her body's still with us, but the rest of her has moved on.
Now, my mother's parents, my Grandpa and Grandma Heston, have always been in the pinnacle of health. They've somehow managed to remain timeless and didn't begin to show signs of even being remotely close to their age until recently. My Grandpa Heston didn't slow down until he broke his hip and had to have a total hip replacement a couple years or so ago. But then that's what happens when you're in your 80s and fall out of a tree--no joke. However, he bounced back pretty well all things considered. My Grandma Heston seldom ever gets sick, she's far too busy to be bothered with something like that. In fact, had it not been for our wonderful winter weather over Christmas and the fact that they too lost their power, she'd have hosted the annual Christmas Eve family get-together at her house again this year with over 50-60 guests filling their basement for potluck revelry.
Really, I have been very fortunate, but three nights ago I got my first official wakeup call. The phone rang and it was Mom. She didn't sound too bad, so I wasn't prepared for her to tell me that she had some bad news. My Grandma had come down with pneumonia. My first thought was that well, this must be it, the Alzheimer's weakened her mentally and now her body's starting to give out. Wrong. It was Grandma Heston who'd contracted pneumonia. I was kinda stunned, but still not too concerned. She went to the doctor, he prescribed some anti-biotics and she's back home. Everything will be fine in a little while. That's what I told myself. That's what I keep telling myself, because anything else would break my heart.
I hung up the phone and still hadn't completely felt the impact of what my mother had just told me. I mean, I know my mom, she's a consummate worrier and this is HER mother we're talking about. If it was really REALLY serious, she'd be a basketcase for sure. So, I put my fears aside and went on with my routine. The next day, I thought about calling and checking on Grandma, but I knew my mother had intended to spend the day at my grandparents' house, cleaning and just doing whatever she could to keep herself calm and feeling useful, while at the same time watching over her parents. Plus, I knew Grandma had a difficult time catching her breath with all the coughing, let alone trying to talk, so I didn't call.
The following evening I couldn't stand it any longer, I had to call and at least check in. So, I called my grandparents' house and Grandpa answered the phone. He NEVER answers the phone. We spoke briefly and he told me Grandma had been behaving herself and hadn't been too cranky, but I knew that her not being able to do the things that she would ordinarily be doing had to be driving her stir crazy. He gave her the phone, which I hadn't expected him to do and I heard my Grandma say, "Hello Chris." What a relief, she sounded pretty good, but from then on she struggled to talk and maintain her voice and finally I just told her I'd do the talking for a bit and wrapped up the conversation with her promising to have Grandpa call me if she needed anything.
I had a huge lump in my throat after hanging up the phone. This wasn't a cold, or even the flu. This was serious. However, it wasn't just hearing her sound so horrible on the phone, but it was what she said. She'd told me she wondered if maybe God had been trying to tell her something. The weather had forced her to cancel Christmas Eve, she'd also been forced to cancel a handful of other important events that in the past she'd never have thought twice about missing and then this. And now here I am, helpless to do anything but be loving and supportive and hold onto my faith that things will work out for the best in the end. But best for whom?
It all just kinda hits me in the gut. And yet, there's a part of myself that keeps reminding me that there are people out there who are regularly put through far worse than what I'm going through. My own GRANDMOTHER is going through far worse right now. This isn't even that serious at the moment and I need to get a grip. All of this makes perfect rational sense. In fact, in my heart I truly believe that Grandma will bounce back from this and that we will have plenty more time to spend together, laughing, and playing cards, eating great food and oh the hugging. However, there's another part of me (the part that wants so very much to protect me and prepare me) that reminds me to not take things for granted, to not take the people I love for granted. Tenuous. Life is fucking tenuous.
posted by Chris at 4:15 PM
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