… that tomorrow will be September and the year is imminent. My aunt died on September 22, 2012. Five weeks later, my Grama died, too. It’s getting rough again. I’m feeling exhausted all the time, distracted, my concentration is shot. Sometimes. I’m still productive for the most part. But then there are the flashbacks. I keep thinking of little things I haven’t thought of since last year. The seasons, the heat, the end of summer events… all are triggers that shoot memories to the surface of the sad dreading, the unknown, the watching and waiting.
I remember rubbing my aunt’s feet and legs, swollen so full and tight that it looked like they could crack open from the bloating. I remember medications, so many medications to organize and provide. I remember waiting while her swirly, medicated mind tried to make sense, tried to manage, tried to order these endless medications. She was smart and stubborn and determined not to overmedicate, but her mind wasn’t clear. So patience was required.
I remember her alarm. It’s that alarm on the iPhone that sounds like a 4 alarm fire disaster, I don’t know how else to describe it. Every once in a while I hear a neighbor in my building with it, and I’m brought right back into bolting up out of unrestful sleep in my cousin’s room… time for meds…
It was a year ago this weekend that I moved in part time with my aunt. To take care of her presumably until she died at home like she wanted. It only lasted for 2 weeks, til she couldn’t take it anymore, til she got too weak and shuffly like an old woman, til she asked to go to inpatient hospice. For peace.