I had my grandmother over for dinner tonight. Big deal right? People have their Grandma's over for dinner all the time, right? Well, not me. My paternal Grandmother is 82 years old, and I have barely had any contact with her in the last 16 years.
There is something very eye opening about staring at a human being whom you remember being so strong minded and stubborn, turn into a fragile person who can no longer walk well, see well or hear well. I have come to regret some choices I have made in my life, simply by seeing her tonight. She is a basic stranger to my children, I hardly ever talk about her to them. When they saw her, I had to explain who she was to them. The last 16 years have not been kind to her. She is so frail. It is bizarre to me how I can take so much pride in being a loving caring person, a person willing to bend over backwards to help a family member, a friend, or even a stranger if needed. But there is something about me that kept this past relationship with her so far off in my distant memory, that there were very few times I remembered the actual good times I had in my life, and allowed myself to focus on the negative thoughts I have carried for so many years.
Who the fuck am I to sit back and judge her for her life choices? I have never dealt with the struggles that she has been presented with. I have not seen life through her eyes. I have not shared in her misery, nor her joy. I have simply refused to be compassionate and decided to live my life in ignorance.
I learned that there is way more to my personality that needs a second look. I need to look at others that I do not have tolerance for, and see how my own inability to love others has made me a person I am ashamed of being.
I also learned that if I had half of the integrity my father had for standing by his family, always looking out for their best interest, and giving my whole self to others more unfortunate, I would and could finally be a person that can look into the mirror and be proud of the person starring back at her.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment