You know that gut-sinking feeling you get when you are about to fall and you know it? I think I prefer it to the utter shock of suddenly and painfully being on the ground. At least when you can tell you are about to fall, you can try, however pointlessly, to do something about. To brace yourself, or catch your errant foot, or throw your hands out in front of you. Plans, hope, maybe you can stop this, maybe it will all be okay.
Twice I have been around palliative care, do not resuscitate, 'just let it go' hospital rooms, and both were anathema to that instinct. By definition there is nothing that will 'make them better', no 'well, maybes this will work out', no 'maybe they can try this's. I like to think of myself as mostly a realist, but those experiences let me know I was still an optimist. Sitting, trying desperately to cheer everyone up, lighten the mood, remind them of the good times. Too much, probably, but also completely unable to sit quietly and just BE in the grief.
Falling up the stairs is one I do a lot (or more than most people anyway). You're down, but somehow still almost upright. Disconcerting, but facing the right way. And not too horrible, unless it was on the subway stairs. Then I need to get home and burn all my clothes.
The last time my grandfather spoke my name was the night before I got there. A younger nurse came in to take his vitals, and my aunt told me he had thought it was me, and called her my name. By the time I got there, maybe 14 hours later, he could no longer speak. There was nothing earth-shattering he wanted to say to me, but I didn't get to hear him say my name ever again.
It's too hot. I am sick of New York. I love New York, but I am too tired for New York. I am ready for the fall. I want to obsess over finding the Perfect Boots, not have to remember that leaving my bedroom means constant unpleasant sweating, overheating, heat-rash and the exhausting sun. What am I doing? Where am I going? LA was relaxing, but was it only relaxing because I didn't have to go to my job?
My grandmother is having more short-term memory problems. My grammy. The best person I know, the best grandmother ever, the funniest, kindest, silliest person in the world, my last grandparent. In pain, tired.
Never understood people who LOVE change. I'm all for flexibility (in other people), but there is a difference between wanting to know when change is coming so you can brace yourself and wanting to fall.
I don't want to fall.