Doing what is right for ME (an update)

I'm starting to hate the telephone.  All it ever seems to do is bring bad news.

We decided to be spontaneous yesterday, hop in the car, and go for a drive.  Normally, Sundays are reserved for bumming around the house - relaxing between loads of laundry and other chores - which we refer to as "Sweatpant Sundays" because that IS our Sunday best.  Normally, we try our very best to get all of our out-of-the-house errands done on Saturdays so we can stay at home on Sundays.  Yesterday was different, for some reason.

When we got home four hours later, there was a message from Mom on the answering machine from three hours earlier (yes, we still use and answering machine - I'm cheap: shut it).  With Mom, you always have to pay attention to what she doesn't say.  I tried the house, but got no answer, so I called her cell phone.

Nick had gone to see Gramps with a bunch of other family members because they were also having a meeting with the doctors, and they wanted someone to be able to relay information to Mom and I (yes, I'm shocked, too).  When Nick called Mom to update her, the poor bugger kept breaking down.  Gramps has a bleed on the brain which caused a stroke; the blood thinners they gave him to break up the clot caused yet another heart attack; he's also still battling pneumonia.  The doctors used the phrase "permanent vegetative state" and advised the family to "be prepared to make a decision" (apparently Gramps made his wishes on this subject known long ago: there will be no persistent vegetative state).  He went from sitting up and eating solid food earlier last week, to being unable to speak or comprehend speech.  He is heavily sedated. 

Mom wanted to go see Gramps, but she didn't want a repeat of last time; she asked Nick to call her once they were all on their way home, because she'd know it was "safe."  Mom and Brad were on their way to see him when I got her on her cell.  She mentioned that it was safe if I wanted to meet them out there; I told her that the dippy-hippie in me felt like I wasn't meant to see him: I told her that we had been a mere half hour away from the hospital and could've been there in no time if she'd called my cell phone (instead of leaving a message at the house) - at that point, we were back home and now an hour and a half away.  She didn't sound overly impressed with my decision to stay home.

When I got off the phone, Chebbar offered to drive us right back out, but I said no.  I instantly felt guilty because I know that's not what was expected of me by Mom, Nick, Taylor...  I was wracked with "shoulds."  (Interestingly enough, I'm doing this challenge, and this week's exercise is to be obligation-free and eliminate the "shoulds" and "have-tos" by rephrasing them to "want-tos" or eliminating them entirely if we don't want to fulfill said obligation.)  I told him that I had made my peace with Gramps when we last saw him; while I knew there was little chance of a repeat of the last time, I wasn't going to willingly and knowingly put myself in the position for yet another potential hurtful scene with Grandmonster and Donna.

As soon as I stated out loud that I didn't want to go and that I was not going to feel guilty about my choice (nor allow anyone else to guilt trip me), I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  In the course of the conversation, Chebbar said something to the effect of "one 'bad' person down... "  I shook my head and told him that I wasn't interested in that negativity anymore: I realized that I've forgiven all three of them, and all I want at this point is peace and comfort for them (while recognizing that a) I don't want that to come from me, and b) it doesn't have to come from me). 

That exchange showed me just how negative and toxic I've let my hurt and anger towards those people make me - the fact that Chebbar's first thought was that I'd be glad to think in terms of knocking off the "bad" people one by one made me sad and ashamed: that is NOT the person I want to be.  That's not the person I am.  I'm not sure which of the many books I've read in the last little while stated this, but I do recall very clearly the author's position that making changes - whether it's attitude, putting yourself first, whatever - will likely be difficult for your loved ones to wrap their heads around, especially if you've been one way for a long time.  I'm in a place where... it's not that it doesn't *matter* to me, but I'm okay with having to deal with my family's confusion at my new perspective(s).

I don't wish them (Gramps, Grandmonster, or Donna) ill.  I'm worried about my brother and sister; I'm very worried about my mom - I can't imagine knowing you're losing the father who hasn't spoken to you in ten years, who made no move to protect you for 40 years.  I hope we're ALL able to find peace and comfort with our chosen family.