"Never in my life has it been so apparent that I am slowly growing old"

I find myself at the conclusion of a long, long weekend trip.  Eliot-babe is sleeping (and maybe even out for the night).  Chris is working on his dissertation in the other room.  We set out to accomplish a lot this visit, and I think we succeeded.

On Thursday, we went house hunting.  I think we found the one that would be best for us, so we're waiting for the right person to decide that our house is best for them too.  We receive so many compliments every time a person sees our home, yet there is always something--whether the person isn't sure if they want to buy yet or if they want to look around some more or if they just have to have a house with AC (our old home has three window units that do the job well).  So, we will continue to wait, and it really hasn't been up that long considering we are now getting into the house-selling season.

On Friday, we had lunch with Kimmy and visited Lara at work.  Then Kimmy came back to my parents' house where we swung on the wicker swing out back and laughed about the past.  Lara came over a little bit later.  We all talked about how awesome my parents' backyard is.  It always has been.  You don't realize things like this until you go away and try to make your own bare backyard into something special.  I think we have done a good job landscaping, but, man, I am so bad at getting anything to grow.  That night felt like highschool all over again--in a good way--with the addition of my niece and nephew running around and my son playing in the sandbox.

Part of the reason why we came down was to have our portraits taken.  It will be our fifth anniversary on June 3rd, so I thought it'd be nice to have some photos taken where we were supposed to get married since a tropical storm came through to devour our outdoor wedding.  Well, the wildflowers weren't in bloom like we had hoped, but we got some good shots in front of the field and some amazing ones by the roses (which are at their peak in prettiness around this time).  Here are a few that Anne got to us right away.  More to come later.  :)

 This morning (on Sunday), my mom continued to try to get in contact with my grandmother.  We had tried to set up a time to see her every day during our visit, but things are more difficult lately than usual.  Her boyfriend of 10 years, Wilbur, has been in the hospital.  They just recently discovered that he has cancer in three places.  While she and Wilbur aren't married, they have been living together and Wilbur has been at most family gatherings, celebrations, and events.  Since my grandmother watched both my grandfather and her oldest daughter suffer and die from cancer (and also her second-oldest daughter die from a brain aneurism), this whole situation is very rough on her already shaky heart and mind.  I do not intend to dishonor my grandmother on the internet, a woman that I loved dearly and looked up to all throughout my childhood, but her independent living situation continues to break down.  We're all worried about her and she is suspicious of everything and everyone around her.

My mom was having trouble getting her to answer the phone this morning.  It was constantly busy.  Since we hadn't been able to arrange a time to see her all weekend, I said, "Well, if she is on the phone, she is home, so let's just go over there."  I hadn't showered or had breakfast, but I figured we should make our move.  My mom and I packed up Eliot and drove over.  When she came to the door and saw Eliot, she looked like she was about to collapse--out of happiness, I hope!  She said she had been asleep (it was 10:00 am).  We discovered her phone off the the hook in the bedroom under some clothes, something she hadn't intended.  She was happy to see Eliot and said he had grown so big and laughed at all of his cute wanderings.

She stood to look for medicine or something and said, "I'm so glad you came."  She rushed over to me and nearly fell into my arms, crying on my shoulder.  "No one knows what I've been through," she said.  "I've been to hell and back.  Watching your Pawpaw suffer and now Wilbur has the cancer all in his brain."  I felt all of the bones in her body.  I held her and tried to assure her that the chemo could be working.  I thought back to when I was thirteen.  My aunt Wanda had just died from the aneurism.  Everyone was out of the house aside from my grandmother and me--probably arranging the funeral.  My grandmother was upstairs on the phone explaining the situation to her mother.  When she got off the phone, I heard her crying and wailing.  I didn't know if I should let her be alone or comfort her.  I walked up the curving stairs slowly.  She was in Wanda's bedroom, where Wanda and I would sit at night and watch the animals come out for the seed she had left them--deer, owls, and a flying squirrel all in a suburb of Baltimore.  After a moment, I held her then and began crying as well.  None of us had expected this.  We cried together and she said, "Thank you, Katie.  Your heart is just pounding."  It was.

My grandparents and their four girls.
Lela, Wanda, Gloria (Memaw), Walter (Pawpaw), Annette (my mom), and Pam.

Back to today, my mom helped my grandmother write out some bills and I went to the grocery store to pick up some food for her--she was out.  Then we visited some more and Eliot turned a cane into a golf club to hit a ball that I had brought along.  After two hours, we went back to my parents' house where Chris was working on his dissertation.  In the late afternoon, Chris took a break and we took Eliot to one of my favorite childhood parks.  If we do move back here to Chesapeake, it seems crazy to me that Eliot will grow up enjoying all of the places that I loved as a child too.  As the cyclical nature of life began to terrify me, I prayed to God that Eliot would be as patient and give as much grace to me as my mother and aunt provide in caring for my grandmother.

I see myself in my son dragging a stick through pine straw.  I see myself in shared laughter with old friends and familiar perennials.  I see myself in the terrified eyes of my grandmother.  Never in my life has it been so apparent that I am slowly growing old.