|
| Thursday, August 30, 2007 |
| Declination |
Ata's father turned 60 last weekend. There was a party for him and his twin brother, attended by Ata's immediate family (minus two brothers, sadly), Ata's mother's family (minus Ata's mother's mother - who has reached an advanced state of dementia - and two cousins), and Ata's uncle's wife's immediate family. Got all that? It sounds like a lot of family, but totalled only thirty-something people. Ata's grandfather turned 89 in the preceding week, so there were two cakes - one for the twins, and one for their father.
A good time was had by all, Ata saw her cousins for the first time since one of them got married four years ago, and met the unmarried cousin's globetrotting partner who designs shoes for Nike. He also drives an Audi, and Mr Ata was not only taken for a drive, but allowed to drive the car himself - a highlight of the weekend for Mr Ata. Ata made a brief and improvised speech, having worried over what to say for some weeks and eventually given up on clever poems and nostalgic stories. Instead, she scanned in some family photographs and assembled them into frames. The concept was to show a family growing over time - the first picture was of Ata's grandparents with the twin boys as babies. The second photo included Ata's father's sister, and Ata's mother, and Ata's uncle's wife, and a smattering of children - Ata, her brother, two cousins by birth and one foster cousin. The third photo was taken about six years ago, and showed the whole family as already described - plus two more cousins, an extra uncle, the foster-cousin's daughter, and a couple of partners of cousins. Complicated, I know. I did not have a more recent whole-family photo. Since then, there have been two more cousins, two more partners, and one death. It was not until a whole day later that Ata's mother pointed out that the centre photo - taken a little over 20 years ago - showed Ata's uncle's first wife.... oops. Oh well. Too late to worry about it now.
On the Monday, Ata's grandfather was admitted to a Palliative Care unit. This is cause for a great deal of relief among the family. He and Ata's grandmother have been steadfastly resisting moving out of their home in any way, shape, or form for the last few years - despite increasing debilitation due to an assortment of conditions, including (but not limited to) Parkinson's disease, Meniere's disease, heart disease, hearing loss, unexplained collapses, one dealt-with-but-still-unexplained growth in the brain, and general frailty. After all that, it is cancer in the bones and lungs that has finally pushed Ata's grandfather into nursing care. It will also be the catalyst for Ata's grandmother moving into some type of assisted living accomodation.
"Sometimes," sighs Ata's grandmother, who has been anticipating her death for as long as Ata can remember, "I wish I could just die. You know, just die. I'm tired of being old and sick." Ata understands what she means. It seems that there should be a switch inside somewhere, that when one reaches the end of life, one just - decides to die, and does. Like falling asleep. You decide to sleep, you lie down with your eyes closed and relax, and - there you go. Asleep. It even has it's own failsafe - if you're not really tired, or your mind is busy, or it's too bright, you can't sleep. Shouldn't death be the same? Or - perhaps it is the same, it's just that the failsafes are set very high. Just as sometimes, it's not enough to feel tired and want to sleep - you have to wait for your body to reach the same place as your mind before you sleep.
At any rate, it is a strange thing - to be with someone who is waiting for their body to reach the same place as their mind. All there is to be done is wait - but how can I counsel patience to someone three times my age? And what does one do whilst waiting? |
posted by Ata @ 11:13 am  |
|
|
|
|
|
