Saturday, February 25, 2012

My Grandmother: The Woman That Raised Me (Part One)

If I seem a bite old fashioned you can thank my grandmother for that. She raised me and looking at those in my age group I am damn glad she did. She is the solid guardian that neither my abusive father (one of these days I will devote a blog to my father) or indifferent mother could be.

My gandmother is an amazing woman. She is the dearest person in the world to me. She has been more of a mother to me than my own mother and if you do not know how I feel about my mother dig through the archives of this blog. Find the blog I think I hate my mother. One of these days I will write part two of that blog.

My grandmother is 84 years old. She currently lives in a nursing home where she is slowly losing her memory. I do not think there are words that can describe the pain and hurt I feel over this issue. Though she does recognize and remember me I know a day will come when she will not do any of the above. It keeps me up at night and brings me to tears in the day.

I was the first to notice something was not quite right. I lived with my grandmother in late 2009 and early 2010. She lived in a very small rural town right outside my hometown in middle Georgia. In the time I lived with my grandmother she would drive me up the wall. I guess she expected me to stay home with her and watch soap operas all day like I did throughout my whole childhood. I could not do it. At this point I was a city slicker and I craved the hustle of the city. So I was gone more often than I was home. Grandma did not like this so she and I knocked heads.

During this time I began noticing some strange things about grandma. For example I was once awaken from my sleep by her screaming. When I ran to her room grandma was laying sideways in the bed with her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. When I asked what was wrong she said she could not move. I attepted to help her up but I could not do it. So instead I helped her back into the bed. The next day my aunt told me that grandma said her dead brothers and sisters told her to scream louder so I could hear her. To say I was rattled by the whole thing would be putting it lightly.

There were times when grandma asked me to do something only to forget that she asked me to do it later. I told my dad something was wrong but no one really paid me any attention. Then one day my youngest aunt showed up at my grandma's house. This bitch never shows up until she wants something. I was naturally suspious of her because of her terrible relationship with grandma. This is the daughter grandma gave the world to only to have her spit on her.

Well anyway this bitch shows up in the middle of the night supposedly to take care of grandma. Months later I would learn the true intention of her visit.

A few mothers later I moved out of my grandma's house and into my mother's house to begin my Master's program. I did not want to leave my grandma but I had no choice. In her rural community I could not get internet service for my computer and I needed it for school. I did not know then that it would be the last time I would spend the night/live with my grandmother.

To be continued....

My Gaydar Does Not Work

I have never hit on a woman. I have always been the one getting hit on. Perhaps this is the root cause of my frustration as a single woman. I am quite shy and I have a very hard time approaching people. I am not quite sure how to get over this issue.

I have huge crush on the property manager of my apartment complex. I think she is pretty and she is so friendly. Because my gaydar does not work I do not know if she is gay or not. I do not see a ring on her finger so I know she is not married. I am wondering if I should send her some flowers or something. I cannot just hit on the woman. I don't know what to do.
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