october must suck to be an old person.
for old people in my family, it's the month that determines who is or isn't coming for christmas.
i was in grade school my grandfather died in early october. it was my first experience with death and it scared me to watch my parents react to their grief. it scared me to be shut out from it all because i was too young to comprehend.
many years later, my soon-to-be husband's grandmother passed away on the same day as my grandfather. we were stunned to lose her only a few weeks before the wedding.
never one to be outdone, my other grandfather died a few weeks after that -- in late october -- on my wedding day.
this is the man with whom i shared a great bond and considered to be my "father". my biological father's great contribution to my life (beyond some fcuked up stories) was that of sperm donor.
two years later to the day -- my grandmother -- his wife passed away. (yup, on my anniversary... although i tell myself he came back for her.)
so when my last remaining grandparent fell down this past friday on the death day, she was scared. she thought she was next.
so she sat alone, in her little rowhouse and tidied up the place just in case. her hand, in the meantime, swelled to an ugly, purple-and-blue color and the use of it was painful.
still, she refused to call anyone for help. she was determined to not bother anyone or further shroud my anniversary -- this day -- in death. so she waited for it until the moment came.
instead of the grim reaper, she saw an x-ray technican. this grim reaper presented a different prognosis. the doctor at the hospital determined her hand was broken in several places. this signaled the end of her days of living alone, unassisted. she will be moving in with family members who can help her in her day-to-day living that proved too much for her.
it wasn't her life that was over per se, it was that her life as she knew it was over.
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Geez, what a story. So terrible. My husband's father died on his (my husband's) birthday. His mom couldn't reach us; we were at a Weird Al Yankovich concert, of all things. For his birthday, I was trying to get Gary away from all the stress of dealing with a demented (think Alzheimers) parent for just a few hours. Now, on his birthday, I never mention his father but rather make sure the day is really special for him. Unfortunately, his mom is home alone. Usually family members help out with her. It's all very confusing.
In my family, it's the Jan-March stretch that's bad. My grandmother (with whom I was very close) died on Jan 8. My father died years later, on March 8. My mom, 5 years after that, on March 22. We can't seem to get to spring, although the week my mom died (of lung cancer), I was able to pick my first daffodil and give it to her. I still think of her when I see that first spring flower.
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