Inexplicable tears
I found myself crying after visiting my grandma in the hospital last night. It took me by surprise. After all, she's not dying or anything; her condition is stable and she's due to be discharged in two days' time. Good news all the way. So why cry?
It freaks me out when I get emotional... crying is all very well if you have a reason to cry, but I just can't stand crying for no reason. It makes me feel weak and irrational and dumb.
Perhaps because my grandma looked so alone in the hospital bed. All she can do is lie there and hope that we will visit her and break the monotony of her days. We come for perhaps an hour or so... and then she is left alone again. How lonely and scary that must be. I would be scared, if I were she.
Perhaps because we're all so busy with our lives and our jobs, to the point that it seems we squeeze her in as just another item on our busy schedule. I allocate the time, come and visit for an hour, and then I'm off, back to my life and whatever else I need to take care of. Even when I got the news that my grandma was in hospital, I didn't go to see her first thing. Nobody thought it important enough to drop everything in order to stay with her in the hospital. Of course, if her condition were critical, I'm sure my aunt or someone else would stay. But even though it's not critical, if I were her, I'd long for someone to be with me...
Perhaps because I know my grandma is so fiercely independent, and now she has to suffer the humiliation of depending upon others to help her. On Saturday when I watched my aunt spoon porridge into grandma's mouth, coaxing her to eat a little, something broke inside my heart. It must be terrible to have to admit that you're helpless and you can't do it anymore, swallow the protestations that have come to your lips so many times before, live with the knowledge that others now have extra work because of you, that you are inconveniencing them -- even if they don't think so. There goes your pride in yourself, there goes your autonomy, your freedom. The worst thing? You have no choice.
Perhaps because for one moment, I looked full into my grandma's face and saw my mom's face there. I was shaken. Mom's growing older, too. Will I be able to lean over her bedside some day and feel only love and concern? I have so many issues not yet ironed out with her... I am so conflicted. Many times I fight against loving her because it is so difficult.
So I cried, a little. I didn't understand myself, but I knew I had to cry. I'm still not sure whether I was crying for my grandma... or for myself.