My beloved Grandma told me towards the end of last year, she doesn’t have much time left here. It crushed me. Moving me to tears in an instant. I stiffened up and told her with confidence that she would be around for a long time. My words said one thing, but the pain in hearing her voice the inevitable sent me to an existential crisis. She is central to my life and core, but she was right. She’s much older now and I’d be foolish to think she’d have all the time in the world.
She told me she was afraid and has been for many years. A two story house in the hills and yet she fears living alone. It bothers me. And it hasn’t left my mind since then. My Grandpa protected her for all those years they were together and somehow she’s now left to fend for herself against the outside world. It’s been ten years since he left us. Was she really like this all this time? She often tells me over the phone to not stay out so late — to not go to the bars or clubs. To watch my surroundings. I can take care of myself, but realizing the extent she feels she’s alone doesn’t sit well with me.
Growing old is terrifying. I wish I had more time, but you want what you can’t have. What am I without her? I have a difficult time letting go and hearing her voice the truth won’t make it any easier.
Life is a bitch.