Here I am in the same room with people I've known my whole life, having the same chit chat conversations we've had a million times before - about restaurants, movies, technology, only adding the logistical details of my grandmother's illness to this familiar interaction. It feels so empty, so wrong. Why can't we discuss how we're feeling, or cry together? Why can't we comfort each other, speak about what we're really thinking or feeling? How can I be the one to break down these walls when the status quo has been in place for so long, the distance between us never diminishing even when I am sitting right next to my family members, at the bedside of my dying grandmother.
How do I bring my new practice of mindfulness into this moment? How do I remain strong in who I am becoming with all these reflections of who I have been looking back at me, expecting me to stay the same? No tears have been shed, no hands squeezed, no comfort given. Everyone is doing what they are "supposed" to do - making all the logistical arrangements for hospice care, turning my grandmother over every few hours so she doesn't get bedsores, contacting our relatives to update them on her illness. Why does it all feel so hollow? Where is the deep connection to her, and to each other, as we witness this momentous journey upon which we must all embark someday. I hope to find the strength, the wisdom, and the courage, to help shift the energy here, to help bring this process into alignment with the loving forces that have brought us all here together, to honor someone we all love deeply and who has shaped us all in such meaningful and significant ways. Wish me luck!
It's still challenging for me to change the tone and lead us into deeper conversations, into emotional territory. My brother and I have found much more depth in our relationship - thank you therapy! - and even somewhat with my parents. It continues to feel jarring and frustrating when the emotional undercurrents are undiscussed, and possibly even unknown to them. And, I have also seen some shifts. Some more expressions of affection, reachings for connection, and chosen vulnerabilities. In this moment, I choose to be grateful for that, which was cracked open by my grandmother's death and has slowly slowly meandered through the other cracks of life to grow deeper roots and connect me and my family more fully to our ancestors and descendants.
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