It's been 8 months now, since my grandmother's stroke. During this time there've been a few more health related happenings, a couple surgeries and, a lot to think about, figure out and wrap my change-loathing head around. Whilst any conscious attempt at sorting my thoughts is quickly intercepted by the bowling-ball-in-the-throat-imploding-brain-pain-combo-with-a-side-of-tears, I have been making progress.
A few weeks ago she and I were having one of our regular lengthy chats and she said, "Y'know I've had a good life these eighty-four years..." I wanted so badly to stave this conversation off for some time in Neverary, but I nodded, swallowed and confirmed that I was listening with a soft, throaty inflection. She continued, "and I know you all want me to live forever, but I'm tired now." And then the levees broke, I could literally feel the chemical warfare happening between the man-made stuff I take for maximum daily "sparkle" and my default chemistry. What happened next was totally unexpected. There was no bowling ball, no implosion-there were no tears. It was as if my person had been taken over by a far nobler puppeteer, and without hesitation or forethought, I said assuredly, "Mom, I just want you to be happy".
Huh?! I can't even tell you what we spoke about from that point because I was in total awe. When hit with the realization and magnitude of what I'd felt and spoken, I looked around both bemused and bewildered. I turned to the cats thinking they would, or could somehow, confirm my presence and add credence to the moment, but it was all me.
This is the first time I've ever faced-in clear and present awareness, such a powerful choice; not only for myself, but for my grandmother and my children and their children, and my blog readers and friends and...well, you understand. I've got far to go still, but for a moment I held the power to let go, and in some small way, I did.