Will he be 94 forever? Yes. Yes he will.

Tonight I’m just sitting at my kitchen table. Alone. Pondering life and how I’ve made it to the exact spot I’m in. I’m sad. Lonely. Angry.

2,700 square feet. A kitchen table that comfortably fits 6 without the leaf. Four big bedrooms. Two bathrooms. A double stall garage.

All for just me.

The tables dusty it so seldomly is used. So is the stove. I cleaned the upstairs spare rooms today and they were dusty too. All I’ve got left to clean is the basement spare room, laundry room and storage room.

Why though? Just for me? Just for them to accrue more dust? It’s a rare moment someone uses them. Nobody visits really. Nobody comes to dinner.

I just sit in this house with the echos and memories of the past. Thinking about how I got my dream home but failed to realize it was simply just a house without others to fill the rooms with their presence, their laughter, their company.

Today I had to go to the Veterans Home to meet with my grandma and her doctor. Her legs suddenly don’t work again. My mom had called and wanted her to be taken to the ER for X-rays. Hence why I had to go meet with the doctor and my grandma. The doctor looked her over and we both agreed it’s her back. She needs a spinal injection again as it’s been 6 months and what appears to be her legs not working is the nerve pain returning. Great.

I stayed for quite awhile. My Grandma asks how old she is – 87. Is that right? Ummm, I think so. Well how old was Papa. I can do the math and check. 94. She then can’t do the math of their age difference and I have to assure her of her age and tell her what her birthday is. She doesn’t remember.

She then says… Will he be 94 forever or will his age still change every year? Hold back the tears – yes. He’ll be 94. Forever. I wanted him to be 100 but even that wouldn’t have been enough. Your age no longer changes when you die. Oh she says. So he’s just 94. Yes. My heart hurts. I miss him. Terribly. I can’t imagine how his wife of 71 years feels. Maybe it’s a blessing she doesn’t remember things well and her dementia is worsening most of the time.

She then wants to ask me something but I have to promise not to tell. I can only imagine what this is going to be. She’s worried my mom has taken all her money. What if my mom gets sick and spends her money? I then had to assure her it’s still her money. All hers. It’s still in her account and my mom is just the payee that helps pay the bills. She won’t spend her money on anything other than nursing home care and her personal needs. And if my mom gets sick I’ll pay her bills for her and take over. But the money is hers and nobody is taking it. Except the nursing home. Okay. This placates her. What happens when I run out of money and they kick me out? That won’t happen. Then we’ll get Medicaid and they’ll pay. They just can’t pay until your money is gone. Nobody is kicking you out. Again, she’s eventually happy.

Her church friends than thankfully appeared and the hard questions ended.

She worries the most about money. A worry she’s had her whole life thanks to the Great Depression. They skimped by and saved “just incase” to only have to waste it all on nursing home care. It’s shitty.

I had therapy today and basically cried through it all. I’m sad. I hate Max has hurt me again. I miss my Grandpa. I hate Jeff’s expensive presents and feel like he tries to buy me back even though I don’t think I feel “forever” with him.

Did we accomplish anything? Yeah – I deserve more. What Max did wasn’t right. My issues with Jeff’s gifts stem back to my issues with my mother and her using money and gifts as a control tactic. At least I can see this though. She’s right. She thinks we need to go back to “parts work” and work on the broken parts. She’s probably right. So I started the book she recommended. “Tender Parts”. Young me is so broken from the neglect in my far younger days, from the parental abandonment. There’s so many parts that hurt and come out when life is hard. I need to work on healing those parts. Giving the young child in my the right to grieve and to heal.

I just need someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. As right now, it feels anything but okay.