ghosts

It’s the last days of 2013, and basically the year has been a blur.  Even as the season winds itself down, I am aware of only the periphery…lights on houses, an occasional holiday song over the radio turned low as I drive over to Tremont.  I think sometimes, I should be making a better effort at being “in the season”…but mostly, I am just happy enough to mark off one more day off the calendar.  Hospice sucks.  I know that my Grandfather has lived a long life and he isn’t in any particular pain.  Its just this waiting. Watching him get smaller every day, a bit more guant.  His wrinkles have turned themselves inside out, smoothed by the loss of underlying structure.  He has no strength to feed himself any longer.  I hold the straw near his mouth so he can drink and even sucking down the thickened water now seems to be a trial for him.  When he tries to talk, I bend over and wait as the stuggling words emerge, muted and torn.  We are both becoming ghosts – only parts of our living are being expressed….I want to feel but emotions push me over boundaries where I am free falling alone and full of fear, so I manage.  I watch him as he manages.  Image