"I believe...."

There is a lot of talk in recovery programs about "believing". Believing in yourself, believing in a higher power or God, believing that you can make a difference... and if you don't believe, then some will tell you to pretend to believe until you really get it.

There is a lot of talk about "acceptance" too. It's the end of the day, and I'm still not sure where I want to go with today's post. Both of these words are weighing on me today.

I believe.... I believe that when I visited my grandmother today she was glad to see me, and she knew who I was. I believe that. I believe that she knows I really love her with all my heart, and wish I could do more for her.

I also know that when I asked her "Is this where you want to be?" and she said "No", that there were layers and layers of answers there, and I know in my heart some of the places where she would rather be.

And this is where acceptance comes in. She does not want to be in that nursing home, and she does not want to be parked in front of the nurses station for an hour before lunchtime after I leave. However, she accepts it. She would like her son and daughter to visit more often than they do, but she accepts their absence and their excuses. She does not know, and maybe does not care any more, that my mother has lied to her repeatedly and in fact, is not visiting her more often because she doesn't have a car.

This is where it gets hard for me. I suspect that my grandmother feels neglected by my mother. She did a lot for my mom over the years, and she is probably hurt and confused by the fact that even though my mom moved back up to Massachusetts 2 months ago, she's not visiting grandma every day. My mother, and my uncle too I guess, never told my grandmother about the DUI my mom got in Florida in October 2007. I think it was 2007, I might be wrong on that. Anyway, my grandmother does not know that the car she bought my mom got totaled and that my mom lost her license etc, etc. When my mom came to visit from Florida when my grandmother was ill once, she did it in between probation visits. My grandmother has no clue. They think she doesn't need to know, and it's not my job to tell her.

Still if she knew that stuff, if she knew that my mom's alcoholism had done this, and that my mom was now without a car, then she'd know why my mom doesn't visit every day.

If I was retired, and lived nearby, I'd visit my grandmother every day. I hate seeing her the way she is, and I know she is lonely. In some ways she reminds me of my daughter. People really do thrive better with some love and affection, and if grandma had some 1 on 1 love from my mom or my uncle, for more than just an hour or two here and there, I think she'd be less depressed.

I can't do it though myself, and she knows it and accepts it. I'm not retired. I have a young child, and a job, and my husband and I share a car. She and I both have to accept this. So today I tried to tell her with all my heart how much I love her, but really she'll never know. I've been mourning her declining health for years, and I can't do anything except that we all get older, and she's 91 years old now, and that's just the way it is.

"It is what it is." as some people say, and we don't have to like it, we just have to accept it.

And with that, I'll sign off until tomorrow.