You can quote me on that

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when their right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."--Marilyn Monroe

Quotes and song lyrics have a way of working themselves under my skin and traveling through my nerves and blood vessels, firing off synapses, until they eventually come to rest in my brain.  There they take on a life of their own--seeping into my gray matter and leaking into my every day thoughts.  When I say I can't get one out of my head, I mean it.  

The above quote, from one of my personal icons--Marilyn Monroe, has taken up residency in my brain as of late.  And, in true *me* fashion, my brain has turned it over and over, hither and fro, like a quotation version of a Rubik's Cube; matching this particular quotation to so many people and events that are permanently stored within the vast caverns of my mind and its memories.  I feel as if I've lived this quote thousands of times...and probably will live it thousands more.

At this very moment I am in the midst of watching my Gram as she drifts further and further from us (this is a letting go that I will never accept nor with which I deal well) and on the precipice of a whole new life with J. and the zilla as we make our plans and preparations for his big move back.  A teeter-totter of emotions which wears me out on a near daily basis.  (Typing the simple phrase "wears me out" immediately sets my brain into motion and now the musical stylings of Radiohead's "Fake Plastic Trees" is playing within the confines of my inner iTunes--neuroTunes, perhaps?)  Two vastly different events, both hugely important in my life, which I have trouble opening up about and adequately putting into words.

Perhaps this is the reason that I find myself, and so much solace, in the words of others.  When my words fail me--as they often do--there is the comfort of knowing that somewhere, sometime, someone else has felt the same way and managed to find the words for you...

<3 

Everybody Hurts

There aren't words to describe how much I love my Gram and how much I ache for her.  I managed to hold it together until the wee hours of the morning when my iPod shuffled its way to R.E.M's "Everybody Hurts" and my knees found the ground and I begged the fates to be kind.

<3 

Be Strong...

My Gram is sick.  Really sick.  In the hospital two-weeks-and-counting sick.  It began as pneumonia and has spread to a variety of other ailments.  The pneumonia seems to be responding well to antibiotics.  Unfortunately, her mind seems to be bearing the brunt of her hospital stint.

It started a week in:  mixing people up, forgetting dates, losing time...nothing that was *too* disturbing.  Gram is on the cusp of 92 so a few slips here and there weren't cause for too much alarm.  But today...today was different.  Today I walked into my Gram's room and was met with a completely blank stare.  Her blue eyes didn't light up, her hands didn't work their way out from her blankets to reach for a hug, nothing...just empty.

My Gram didn't know me.  Me.  Her favorite grandchild (Does that sound shitty to say?  It's true--so I'll say it).  The one who produced a little "princess" on which my Gram completely and utterly dotes.  The one who has sat by her bed for hours after work every day to help her eat and keep her entertained.  The one who, upon leaving the previous night, she patted and said, "Be a good girl, Karyn (which she has *always* pronounced Car-in)."

I was utterly heartbroken.

The next several hours were spent relentlessly dragging my Gram's mind back to the here and now.  Gram regaled me with stories about her bright, beautiful granddaughter (fyi: that's me) with absolutely no idea that she was talking to me...about me.  After each story, I would remind her that I, in fact, am Karyn.  Gram simply nodded her head and started unraveling another tale about something I had done or said.  At one point, she asked me if I knew me and when I might come visit.  "It's dark," she worried. "Karyn never is this late."

The hours stretched on and a nurse eventually popped her head in the doorway to remind me that visiting hours ended at 8:00 and that I had overstayed my welcome by almost an hour.  My Gram accepted a hug from me.  Accepted.  Tolerated.  No pulling me in closer.  Not a single pat on my hair.  A hug that you would give an acquaintance.  My Gram and I are huggers.  When we hug you, it's for real.  None of this half-way hug nonsense.  And, all the tears I had held back during the night began to fall.  I tried so hard to regain my composure.  After all, to my Gram, I was essentially a stranger.  But my Gram continued to hug me anyway.  Patting my back the way one would to soothe a child.  I straightened again and looked her face, a face I have looked into thousands of times before and whispered, "I am so sorry."  Gram grabbed my hand and squeezed and said, "It's okay to cry, Karyn.  All strong women cry and you are the strongest of them all."  Then she gave me a pat and sent me on my way.

It was only a moment, but I will take it.  It is what we strong women do...

<3