Everything in life is only for now...

189. One of these days I will make progress. One of these days.

My grandmother (Mama Neenie) spent the weekend in the hospital. She’s home now. She had a slight case of pneumonia and a urinary tract infection. The doctors (and nurses) pumped her full of antibiotics Friday and Saturday. She went home Sunday.

I don’t like these hospital stays. Neenie is 94 years old. At that age every visit to the hospital could be her last. (Especially given the track record of our local hospital.) I don’t need that kind of reminder.

I’ve mentioned this before: I have lived 35 years without a close relative dying. I’d like to keep it that way. (Yes, I know that is completely unrealistic.) The more time that passes, though, the more I think that may be a completely selfish attitude.

My grandmother has always been very active. She was almost 60 when I was born, but I have never known her to sit still. At least until the last few years. She participated (and won medals) in the Senior Olympics. She served as a volunteer worker in every election. She took countless trips with her church’s senior group. She volunteered at the Senior Center.

One of my favorite Neenie memories comes from the Senior Citizens Center in Florence. She invited Misty, our son (our only child at the time), and I to eat with them. I think she asked me to speak on some topic or another after dinner. When I asked her for some details, she was quick to point out that she participated as a volunteer. I don’t remember the exact quote, but it had something to do with her “serving dinner for the old people.” She was 85 at the time.

She rarely stayed home. She was always at some meeting or playing shuffleboard at the rec center or taking care of some “old people.” She worked well into her 80s. She was a hairdresser. Her doctor told her to stop several times. The constant bending over damaged her back and continuing to work damaged it further. She told the family she retired, but she continued to sneak appointments in a few at a time.

Now she can’t walk on her own. She spends her days in her motorized recliner watching the Game Show Network. Well, not the entire day. She spends many hours a day in her wheelchair playing dominoes with the other Merrill Gardens residents.

She desperately wants to be independent again. She has sitters with her 24 hours a day. She can’t get up or get dressed or go to the restroom with out their help.

I often wonder if she’s happy. Which leads me to wonder if my hope that she outlives me is as selfless as I’ve told myself it is. I want her to be around forever, but do I really want her to live for years if she’s unhappy?

Her mind is still sharp. She has trouble with names from time to time. So do I, and I’m only 35. She’s 94. That’s a lot of years to remember.

I want her to live forever, but I guess more than that I want her to be happy. I guess I just hope she stays happy forever! So I’m not going to dwell on her failing health. We’re going to visit her more often. Because that will make her happy.

A couple of weeks ago some of the band played for the residents at her assisted living facility. It’s as happy as I’ve seen her in a long, long time. Yesterday she mentioned it again. She talked about the band all meeting her and hugging her. She loved it. I hope I get to see a lot more of that.

This was going to be about my kids. Some stuff we talked about in the car after visiting Neenie at the hospital. Obviously, it didn’t go that direction. I guess that gives me something to write about tomorrow.