Well, I got a letter today from my uncle, and it was a copy of a letter he sent to my father. I'll spare you the details (and the choice language), but it was pretty direct: "our mother is in the hospital, and yet you do nothing." There are times when I think, "Arvid treated me badly, but he treats his own brother and parents the same way." My grandmother, my last living grand-anything, is in her late 90s, and has been hospitalized seven days for congested heart failure. She is not doing very well, isn't very coherent, and her mind is wandering. If she does survive a few more days and shows signs of stabilization, she will be moved to a nursing facility.
My paternal grandmother has always been a little off. I don't have many memories of her, but she has had a hard life. That's about all I know. I used to think I knew a great deal about her, but when I got older, what my mother said, what my father said, what my maternal relatives have said, and what my father have said all tell different stories that vary quite widely. I met her once, when I was 18, and staying in San Diego. She was... okay, but she was known to have her off days. I know she was raised by a crazy aunt who was put away for good in an insane asylum. She raised two kids in a Chicago slum. Her husband died in 1981, and my uncle took care of her until 1995, when she needed to go to an elderly care home. He still pays a lot of those bills.
Not only do I have to deal with my grandmother possibly passing away, but the possibility of my father showing up. There is actually a good chance he won't, so it's not a certain gamble, but I think there's more than a 50% chance of him showing up to the funeral. Then the sparks will fly. My uncle is so mad at him. I am mad at him too, but the fact that he's totally ignoring this situation doesn't surprise me at all. I don't think it surprised my uncle that much, either, but he hasn't seen him since my mother's funeral, and before that... maybe 30 years since my father moved out. My father left his family, and never looked back.
His mother adored him, but in recent years, began to realize that he was not the son she thought he was. In this last week, she called him The Devil. That's quite a change, but it's not helping my aunt and uncle through all this. I asked if they needed me, and they said they were fine, she has a good doctor, and really, what could me flying out do?
I don't know, be there for her? She's never stopped writing me for all these years. I am going to see how her condition goes. If she gets better or dies, then I am going out to California... so since "staying the same" doesn't seem like it is a possibility, I am probably California bound next week.
Man, I feel so messed up.
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