Grandma is dying...

Yesterday my wife checked the junk mail folder, and noticed an email from my birth father in there. It read:

“Your grandmother is dying. She wanted me to let you know. You can call her at xxx-xxx-xxxx”

My birth mother was cc’d. 

It was from two days ago. 

I was out with the kids at the time. Rather than urgently contact me, my wife (suspecting narcissistic shenanigans) checked the phone number. It was the hospital near my grandmothers retirement home. When I was home and not busy, she gave me the information. 

I called my grandmother right away. I stay in touch with her, calling about once a month (as far as I know, my other brothers never call her) and sending and receiving cards and the like. But I have not spoken for a few weeks. 

She was happy to hear from me. She sounded clear headed and peaceful, as usual. She said she has an hole in her abdominal wall, causing an infection behind her bowel making it impossible to “poop,” and causing a lot of pain. She was told that the condition was incurable, despite the large amount of antibiotics she was on. She has gone several days without eating: but says strangely, she was not hungry. A very stalwart Christian, she has stated often that she would rather die and be with Jesus than put up with the daily pain from her rhumatoïde arthritis, and other ailments. At 97, she is ready to go: but, like the Apostle Paul, there always seems to be someone else to share Gods love with, which causes her to believe that she must still stay. Now, though, it might really be her time. 

I prayed for her, and we told each other that we loved each other. 

I did not feel any sadness right away, but talked it over with my wife. My grandmother felt at so much peace, and had been in pain for so long it felt appropriate to be happy for her. It was what she wanted. 

“And just think,” my wife said, “right now, is the perfect time. The perfect time! With the pandemic, you don’t have to worry about whether to go to the funeral or not.”

We had previously discussed that I probably wouldn’t go to the funeral, if it happened in the midst of all of this.

“And,” I said, “I just really really don’t want her to get dragged into this.”

We discussed how it seemed like it would be good if God took her home now. 

As we continued to discuss, my wife was very focused on my dads email. 

“It is textbook!” She kept saying, “using a family crisis to try to reel you back in!”

“Yes,” I responded absent, as we drove to our boat, “he is trying to make it sound like I cut off contact with grandma, when I cut off contact with him. He is trying to smack my hand and shame me, trying to make me feel like that little child that is out of line.”

“And how he cc’d your mother. Why? Couldn’t she just read it?”

“It was to have an audience. Trying to control me through public shame.”

We took our new boat for a test ride, then, and it was a welcome distraction. When we got back, I took some meds for a headache that I suddenly found that I had. I started to feel dizzy and not myself. 

“We sure called it!” My wife said, “they think they are so original! But just read the books on narcissism, and they are so incredibly predictable!”

“I really don’t give a damn about my dad right now,” I said honestly, “I’m just really sad about my grandmother.” It was true. The manipulation fell to the ground like arrows rebounding from plate armour. It’s like they were meant for someone else. But to loose such a good friend?

“Of course, I am sorry.”

The sadness was starting to set in, and the deep grief. I asked my wife if she would mind putting the kids to bed, and letting go to sleep at 7:30. She agreed.

We talked briefly about a way to name our new boat after grandma. Also, of my sadness.

“You know, she has always been there for me. She was harsh at times, but she was always there. And she likes me. She is the only real Christian friend in my family.”

“She really loved you,” my wife interjected, “real love. Not needing anything. She just loved you.”

“Yes, that is true.”

Goodbye, grandma. My dear friend. I hope that you pass quickly and painlessly and that you do not live to see the huge conflict that is brewing between your son and grandson, which threatens to rip a part of your family apart, perhaps forever.