measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Frustratingly detached One of the more unusual things in my life, at age 27, is that I have never experienced the death of a human loved one. I say human, because I have had pets die. So I know what loss is, and how it feels. But it is unusual to have gone through what's most likely the first third of life without ever having a loved one die, and having never attended a funeral. I think it's made me a bit numb to the reality of what happens in death and loss. I think last September has a bit, too. And I have been quietly chastizing myself off and on all week because I feel like I'm two people-- one who knows that loss is something to sympathize, and one that just either doesn't get it, or does and just doesn't care. This whole train of thought is coming based from an email I received from my dad on Thursday:
I have some sad news to share with you..On Mothers Day . Red Scheffer, grandma Lillians companion of 18 years died in the hospital after a three week hospitalization with pneumonia.. He had been having problems for the last year with a chronic anemia that had severely weakened him.. I know at a time like this , she would love to her from you. This now grandmothers second death of a mate...it doesn't get any easier, and the loneliness is awfull. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Love to you both.. Dad and Anne Now, I know that this came from Anne (my stepmother), not my dad. Just by how I was addressed. Dad (like my mom) calls me "Em." But Anne's daughter, Emily, is also an "Em," so it gets confusing. For some reason, I got defensive by the tone I read into this letter. Maybe it's because I know the problems my brother has been having with Anne (apparently Anne's been introducing Scott as her son, and it understandably puts him out). But the note just struck me as cold and distant. I'm wondering why an issue like this wasn't done over the phone. Particularly since it's family. Granted, Red wasn't exactly family. But he was my grandmother's companion and roommate. But he was with her for the better part of my life. I never exactly felt close to him or even thought of him as a grandfather. I saw him as a friend of my grandmother, who had been widowed at the young age of 54. I never met my grandfather Raymer. He died five months before I was born. Never knew that I even existed or was going to exist. I wish I could have known him, because everyone speaks so highly of him. Red and my grandmother kept each other company in their old age. To be honest, I really don't know how deep the relationship between them was. This is because of the rocky relationship with my grandmother, and might be one of the reasons I don't feel quite so saddened by the loss. Again... do I just not get it, or do I just not care? My grandmother Lillian and I have never gotten along. Well, at least since I was 11. Like my grandmother (and my mother, for that matter), I am strong-willed. I won't kiss someone else's ass. But I have always felt that if I were to be accepted and loved by my Grandmother Lillian, that's what I needed to do. Grandma expects to be on a platform to be exhaulted and admired for who she is, what she likes, and everyone is expected to go along with that. My mother was usually on my grandmother's bad side. To the point that in college, when I was having problems with my mom in a typical mother-daughter fashion, I made a comment alluding to the fact that sometimes my mother is such a bitch. My grandmother was more than happy to immediately chirp in to agree. At the same time, other people's interests and loves really don't matter to her, unless they correspond to her own. In fact, she'll go as far as to try to discourage interests she doesn't particularly have interest in. She did this to me all the time when I'd go visit her. As a young child, I didn't pick up on it. I did by 11. Visits to my grandmother's were fun at times, but sadly, what I remember more is the notecards that would arrive at the house a couple weeks after our visit, usually saying how she enjoyed our visit BUT... (insert criticism here). As Scott and I grew older and more independent, the criticisms outweighed the enjoyment. And by college, I'd had enough. She made some very nasty criticisms during my college graduation and in her subsequent card which completely put me off. I refused to speak to her for the better part of two years. And even still, her comments remind me how I need to keep a distance from her. If there is one thing that will ruin a relationship between anyone and myself, it's the break of trust when I confide in someone as a confidant. It did with Grace, it did with LGM, and it did with my grandmother. I have an equal amount of love (because she's family) and loathing of my grandmother. And that saddens me. Because I know why it's there, and each time I've tried to give her another chance and try to welcome her with open arms of love, she batters me down. My grandmother does not give unconditional love. I don't doubt that my fond memories of her will be forever tempered by those dreaded cards. Even now when I get any card from my grandmother, I don't open it until I'm in the mood, fearing what I might find inside. So as I read this email, I was on the defensive. And while I did have the "that's too bad" feelings for Red, I just can't give the sympathy to my grandmother honestly. Yes, I'll send her a card, and write down words of sympathy that I might mean somewhere deep down, but to me, they'll be hollow. I don't like doing things like this. I don't like the dishonesty that seems to breed on the Kent side of the family. Everything's shallow, impersonal. No one talks to each other. And I think a lot of it is because of the way my grandmother views the world. Now I see myself getting sucked into the lie, having to do something for the sole purpose of what is expected of me. Does this make me a bad granddaughter? 11:01 a.m. - 20 May 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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