I Don't Speak Latin
Friday, April 15, 2005
Response to Amanda's LJ
Well, this isn't a direct comment concerning what you said... but it made me think of something that happened a few years ago.
My grandfather had been very ill for a few years before he died. He'd had a heart attack when he was in his 30s, and his heart wasn't very good after that. By the end of his life, he'd developed a cancer (not sure which) and his heart was weak from another heart attack. The second happened on their (his and my grandmothers) annual winter trip to Florida. They would always leave in October and return in May.
Let me make clear right now how much I NOW dislike my grandmother. And now I will explain.
He had the heart attack on their trip to Florida. She refused to return to Canada, so that he could have proper medical attention, with his family near. She thought it was too expensive and a waste of money. So his condition deteriorated until she saw fit to come home.
He received medical care in Toronto, because the hospital in Bracebridge really wasn't equipped to deal with his problems.
At this time, he all but stopped talking. He was never a big people person, but he could hold his own in conversation.
I hated going to visit them. Not because he was so sick, but because my grandmother spoke of him as if he wasn't there.
For example, my mum might ask him what he was reading, and my grandmother would reply that Jack was enjoying "random title" by "random author". She would talk about him as if he wasn't there.
I've been told that this was her way of dealing. I can't believe that. I don't understand how someone could be so self-motivated.
Finally, the family convinced my grandparents to move back to Penetang, where most of my aunts and cousins live.
When he died, I was at NMC.
The Christmas after he died, my grandmother offered up his old clothing to the family. I mean coats, boots, etc.
My dad says that this is a reflection of how she was brought up, taught not to waste.
Maybe it's just me.
I can't believe that you could do that to someone you were married to for 40-odd years.
It makes me sad that he spent his last years engulfed in her shadow.
My grandfather had been very ill for a few years before he died. He'd had a heart attack when he was in his 30s, and his heart wasn't very good after that. By the end of his life, he'd developed a cancer (not sure which) and his heart was weak from another heart attack. The second happened on their (his and my grandmothers) annual winter trip to Florida. They would always leave in October and return in May.
Let me make clear right now how much I NOW dislike my grandmother. And now I will explain.
He had the heart attack on their trip to Florida. She refused to return to Canada, so that he could have proper medical attention, with his family near. She thought it was too expensive and a waste of money. So his condition deteriorated until she saw fit to come home.
He received medical care in Toronto, because the hospital in Bracebridge really wasn't equipped to deal with his problems.
At this time, he all but stopped talking. He was never a big people person, but he could hold his own in conversation.
I hated going to visit them. Not because he was so sick, but because my grandmother spoke of him as if he wasn't there.
For example, my mum might ask him what he was reading, and my grandmother would reply that Jack was enjoying "random title" by "random author". She would talk about him as if he wasn't there.
I've been told that this was her way of dealing. I can't believe that. I don't understand how someone could be so self-motivated.
Finally, the family convinced my grandparents to move back to Penetang, where most of my aunts and cousins live.
When he died, I was at NMC.
The Christmas after he died, my grandmother offered up his old clothing to the family. I mean coats, boots, etc.
My dad says that this is a reflection of how she was brought up, taught not to waste.
Maybe it's just me.
I can't believe that you could do that to someone you were married to for 40-odd years.
It makes me sad that he spent his last years engulfed in her shadow.