by Pull The Letter

Created on: December 19, 2008   Last Updated: December 30, 2008

From the Ghetto to the Grave

My place of employment is located directly behind a certain housing project. This housing project has stood in its current location since 1940 and when I drive past those red brick buildings, I often think of my mom and my grandmother. My mom lived in this same housing project when she was much younger. Her father was disabled and her mother never worked a day in her life. When my dad met my mom in college, my mom was still living there in the housing projects. My father eventually rescued my mom in marriage and they started a new life in much better conditions. My grandmother, on the other hand, remained in that same apartment, in that same housing project long after my grandfather died and long after my mom endured an unsuccessful marriage to my father. My grandmother did eventually move out of the projects when her health declined and she had to live with my mom and her new husband. As time moved on, my mom was no longer able to care for my grandmother properly and the decision was made to put her in a nursing home.

My grandmother is now 89 years old. She has had both legs amputated due to diabetes and both breasts amputated due to breast cancer. She really has nothing but death to look forward to in her remaining days as she is now in the hospital awaiting hospice care. My mother has never left her side because she has always been my grandmother's only ally in this world. As I think of my mom and grandmother right now, I can't help but feel a degree of sadness for them both. My mom will lose her mom soon and my grandmother will lose her life. It seems that my grandmother would have already given up the fight by now, but she obviously feels compelled to keep on living in spite of the fact that death would really be a blessing. My mom will surely be heartbroken when her mom finally does stop fighting. There will probably come a time when my mom will depend on me to take care of her just as she has cared for her mom and she will make unreasonable demands, and I won't like her stubbornness and she won't like mine either. But then I'll remember she's tired, she's old, and her mind is not what it used to be and I'll know she loves me because she'll tell me. She will know I love her too because I will love her like she has loved her mother and I won't let her forget.

I brought my 2 year old daughter to visit my grandmother on Easter this year and that was probably as happy as she has been in quite some time. I'm sure it eased her pain for a moment. And while I watched my daughter in my grandmother's lap that day I couldn't help but think that she too will be old and helpless and possibly alone one day, just as I will, just as many of us will.

Knowing my grandmother will die soon reminds me of my own mortality and the mortality of the rest of us. I have lived a lucky life so far and I have been the recipient of great fortunes I do not deserve. When my number is up, I shall welcome the sleep that is to come next and I can only hope my children won't forget about me when I have no teeth or legs or fight left in me.

Learn more about this author, Pull The Letter.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.