some things we can't fix

We are getting closer to Monday, and my subconscious is trying to take over me.

Today I got a call from Zack asking if I would go hold Caleb so Emily could have a little R&R. Of course!

And then the thought hit me — what if I don’t wake up on Monday? They are putting me under to get my polyps removed and check on some other stuff. What if I can’t wake up?

I told Anthony NOT to take me off life support. I will come back! My grandbabies and my children need me.

Then it made me think of my grandmother.

When my sister and I were in grade school and living with my grandmother — this was before Lacey was born — my mother must have been in jail at that point. I’m not really sure. But my grandmother had her gallbladder removed.

Back then it was much more invasive than it is now. They would cut you open from the front all the way up to take it out. When I had mine removed back in 2016, they just did three little holes.

Anyway, she flatlined. She came back, but she was pretty out of it for weeks, laying on the sofa. My Aunt Dawn came and helped get us to school and take care of us while all of this was going on. She was married, but they didn’t have any babies yet.

That was the first time I ever had tortillas with butter, cinnamon, and sugar warmed up in the microwave. It was so yummy. A good memory I later shared with my own kids. Thanks, Aunt Dawn!

Anyway, when Grandma was awake and alert again, I remember her telling some friends that she saw the light and felt peace. But then a little voice told her, “What about Jennifer and Alicia?” And then she knew she couldn’t leave us.

Alicia and I would not be the people we are today without my grandmother. Yes, she had her faults. But we all do.

She loved us, and we loved her.

When my grandmother died (I actually wrote a post in my diary about this, so I will probably reshare it one day), I was in the OR with my cousins as she was taken off life support and a little voice told me to look up. I couldn’t. I was too afraid. But as soon as I drove home, I cried. I told her I was sorry. I should have looked up.

And every time I think about it, I say, “I am ready now. Can I see what I missed?”

I found myself crying over it again just this week. But I envisioned that I would have seen my grandpa with open arms, and her daughter who passed as a baby ready to greet her. Her mother, who died when she was a toddler. Her Mama Kep, who took her in as a teenager and raised her. And her Grandma Isabel, who tried to raise her as a child. I know she would have had angels everywhere welcoming her home.

And my dumb ass missed it because I was too afraid to look up. WHY?! The voice told me to! Was I afraid I was hearing voices? I don’t know. But that is on my list of biggest regrets.

About a year and a half ago, I had this crazy dream. I was in a white room, and my grandmother and grandfather were there. My mom was there too, crying, and they were holding her. I couldn’t hug her. I couldn’t talk to her — kind of like how I feel right now.

My grandmother came over to me, held me, and told me, “Your mother was not born with the tools she needed to be a proper mother, but she is our daughter and we love her.”

My grandfather was holding her while she apologized for all the hell she put them through, and he told her it was okay — they loved her unconditionally, just as they love me.

I woke up barely able to breathe. I was crying so hard in my dream that I brought it with me into real life. I analyze everything, and I didn’t understand why I dreamed something so powerful. I thought maybe my mother had died and I was seeing the reunion.

But she didn’t.

My cousin told me she had seen her, and my sister Toni spoke to her after that.

On January 8th, my cousin Rachel texted me saying, “So I saw somebody today.”

Me: “She’s still alive? Let me guess… the methadone clinic?”

Rachel: “She’s still alive. She’s aged about 30 years. She is at one of the nursing homes we do transportation for. She ran around the place telling everybody I’m her niece.”

“So she lives at a nursing home now?”

“She’s in like a short-term care unit. She was homeless and her leg got super infected, so they admitted her there for wound treatment.”

“Oh my gosh. Well, I’m glad she is safe for a little while.”

“That’s what I told her. I said stay there as long as you can. It’s a good, safe place. They have her off drugs except for methadone. They don’t allow her to leave without basically having a babysitter.”

“How long has she been there?”

“I think a little over a month.”

“It makes me physically sick and super sad, but I don’t know what I can do.”

Rachel said, “I almost avoided her, but then that little voice of Grandma in me said don’t do that.”

“Well, I’m glad you were able to talk to her.”

“She said she wants you to know she loves and misses you all. I told her I would pass the message on.”

“Rachel, she just can’t take accountability for anything. It’s too hard.”

“I know it’s hard. I just know I would want to know if it was my mom or dad.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“Hey, at least you know she is somewhere safe and not on the streets. She is being cared for. The place she is at has amazing staff.”

“I’m not upset or mad at all. I just don’t know how to help someone who is not willing to help themselves. Mentally, I just don’t know what to do with the information. I need to see a therapist.”

Rachel told me, “Just tell your brain you mentally cannot have her in your life. You know this. You’ve given it many chances. Her life is what it is because of her choices, nobody else’s.”

Logically, I know that. But the grandma part of me wants to help her, even though I can’t bring that back into my life. I am just starting to feel healthy.

“She showed me her closet and everything,” Rachel said. “She came in with nothing, and now she has a closet full of stuff. They really take good care of her there. They won’t discharge her to the streets. They have to find somewhere suitable for her to go.”

“That’s really good to hear.”

It broke my grandmother’s heart, but she loved her to the very end.

Laurie actually said that too. She said when her parents died, the family fell apart. They were literally the glue of the family.

To the very end, Grandma would be curled up in bed in pain and still worried about what my dad was eating for dinner. If I could be half as good as my grandma, I’d be happy.

She was amazing. Truly.

I told Rachel about my dream — everything I just told you — and we both cried. Then Anthony came home and took the phone away.

That was in January. I don’t know where my mother is now, or if she is even alive. But I think that dream was my grandparents telling me that we can’t figure it all out in this life. Maybe we will in the next.

So as Mother’s Day is tomorrow, I am thankful my mother didn’t have an abortion. The doctors actually tried to talk her into one because she was very sick with me. But she stuck it out.

I will always be grateful for my grandmother. Without her, I don’t even want to think about where I would be.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Grandma, and Happy Mother’s Day. Love you always and forever.

Mom, I know you didn’t have the right tools for this earth. I just hope that someday you understand why I can’t do it anymore. Maybe if you don’t understand it here, you will there. I just don’t have it in me anymore.

I am a mother to eight crazy kids who keep me on my toes every single day, pushing every limit imaginable. And now I have these two grandsons who melt my heart and that I can’t get enough of.

I can’t focus on your choices anymore. I get to enjoy mine.

And if that makes me selfish, then I am selfish.

Love,

Jen